THE 


HOME      ANGEL 


L.    B.    UBBINO 


"  In  the  clear  heaven  of  her  delighted  eye, 
An  angel  guard  of  loves  and  graces  lie ; 
Around  her  knees  domestic  duties  meet, 
And  fireside  pleasures  gambol  at  her  feet." 


BOSTON: 

WENT WORTH     AND     COMPANY, 

86  WASHIXGTOX  STREET. 

1857. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  by 

WENTWORTH    AND    COMPANY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Masaachusetts. 


Stereotyped  by 
BOBABT  & 'BOBBINS, 

fioiton. 


PREFACE. 


I  AM  aware  of  the  inutility  of  prefaces  to  most 
readers ;  but  I  wish  to  tell  those,  in  whose  hands 
this  little  hook  may  fall,  that  I  began  with  the  idea 
of  writing  a  translation,  but  changed  my  mind 
after  a  page  or  two.  Those  who  read  French  will 
find  "  Esther  de  Chaseuil"  a  very  pretty  story — 
much  prettier,  perhaps,  than  mine,  though  of  a 
different  character. 

I  have  seen  many  brave  people  struggling 
through  life  with  stout  hearts  and  steady  purpose, 
and  I  have  invariably  found  that  they  are  better 
satisfied  with  the  allotments  of  Providence,  and 
more  useful  to  mankind,  than  those  who  have  never 
been  driven  to  exertion  by  necessity. 

It  seems  to  me  that  industry  contributes  very 
much  to  our  comfort  in  all  stations  and  conditions 
of  life ;  but  there  is  a  greater  difference  between 
systematic,  quiet  industry,  and  impulsive,  noisy 
bustle,  than  most  people  imagine.  The  one  is 
useful  and  cheerful,  always  ready  to  do  anything 
for  anybody,  having  time  enough ;  the  other,  im- 


2063503 


IV  PREFACE. 

patient  and  unhappy,  troubled  with  much  labor, 
having  no  time  to  help  a  distressed  brother,  ever 
worn  and  haggard,  though  doing  little  or  nothing. 
Esther,  I  believe,  understood  the  secret  of  living 
so  as  to  wear  a  cheerful  face  even  in  the  darkest 
trials.  If  her  example  was  good,  may  we  all  profit 
by  it. 

L.  B.  U. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

.    '.;...:                                                                                P«S«. 
ESTHER'S  NEW  HOME, 7 

CHAPTER    II. 

THE  PRESENTATION, 23 

CHAPTER    III. 

NEW  PLANS, 36 

CHAPTER    IV. 

A  THRILLING  SCENE, 43 

CHAPTER    V. 

A  KITCHEN  SCENE, 63 

CHAPTER    VI. 

DOMESTIC  ECONOMY, 65 

CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  ENCHANTMENT  OP  BENEVOLENCE, 76 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

HOME  TRIALS, 91 

CHAPTER    IX. 

VISIT  TO  AMERICA, 108 

1* 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    X. 

fuge. 
DE  LACT'3  RETURN 113 

CHAPTER    XI. 

REVERSES  OF  FORTUNE. 123 

CHAPTER    XII. 

ESTHER  IN  ADVERSITY, 131 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

ESTHER'S  JOURNAL, 150 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

M.  LE  GENDRE'S  DEATH, 168 

CHAPTER    XV. 

OPPRESSION'S  DEVICES, 168 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

ESTHER  REACHES  HER  RELATIVES, 180 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

DE  LACY  AND  HIS  COUSIN, 1W 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

ESTHER  •WITH  HER  RELATIVES, 205 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

ESTHER  IN  HER  NEW  HOME, 214 

CHAPTER    XX. 

MEETING  WITH  DE  LACY, 225 


CHAPTER    I. 

ESTHER'S  NEW  HOME. 

THE  clock  of  Saint  Philip  struck  five.  The 
rising  sun  shed  its  vermilion  light  on  the  noble 
mansion  which  attracts  the  eye  of  every  stranger 
in  that  vicinity,  and  glanced  into  a  chamber  where 
the  silence  and  repose  of  night  reigned.  This 
chamber,  whose  windows  opened  upon  a  garden, 
was  arranged  in  a  simple  and  exquisite  manner. 
The  window-curtains  were  of  white  damask.  The 
toilet-table,  ornamented  with  rich  lace,  bespoke 
the  wealth  and  taste  of  its  owner.  A  clock  and 
alabaster  vases  decorated  the  chimney.  Pictures 
representing  Christ  and  his  disciples  were  sus- 
pended in  rich  frames ;  roses  and  the  lily  of  the 
valley  were  here  and  there  in  dishes  held  by  mar- 
ble cherubs.  Who  occupied  this  chamber?  A 
young  girl,  reader,  whom  I  will  presently  intro- 
duce to  you. 


8  THE  HAPPY   WAKING. 

Just  as  the  alabaster  clock  repeated  the  hour 
struck  by  Saint  Philip,  the  young  girl,  upon  whose 
lips  played  a  sweet  smile,  opened  her  eyes.  One 
of  her  arms  fell  gently  upon  the  embroidered  quilt, 
and  with  the  other  she  drew  aside  the  white  silk 
curtains,  and  looked  about,  as  if  to  see  where  she 
was.  Apparently  happy  thoughts  were  crowding 
into  her  mind,  for  she  smiled  and  ejaculated  in  a 
low,  but  sweet  voice :  "  Heavenly  Father !  how 
good  art  thou  to  thy  handmaid  !  "  Then,  rising 
hastily,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  own  beautiful 
face  in  the  large  mirror  which  hung  in  front  of 
her  bed,  and  said,  "How  contented  I  am!" 
Throwing  a  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  she  walked 
around  the  room,  stopping  before  every  article  of 
furniture  with  surprise  and  admiration,  and  ex- 
claiming, "Beautiful !  beautiful !  " 

At  the  windows  she  remained  some  time  longer 
inhaling  the  perfume  of  roses  with  which  the 
alley  was  bordered ;  then  seating  herself  thought- 
fully, she  said,  "  0,  how  pretty  is  all  this  !  My 
dear,  good  father,  how  much  trouble  you  have 
taken  for  me !  How  could  you  know,  so  well, 
what  would  please  me  !  How  I  do  love  my  beau- 


THE   GKATEFUL   CONTRAST.  9 

tiful  white  chamber!  How  happy  I  shall  be 
here  !  What  a  difference  between  this  and  my 
little  room  in  the  country  !  Yet  I  was  happy 
there  ! "  added  she.  "  Every  one  was  kind  to  me ; 
the  country  is  always  smiling,  and  the  sun  shines 
brighter  on  the  green  fields  than  on  these  stone 
houses  ;  there  are  as  beautiful  flowers  on  the  hill- 
side as  in  this  garden.  0,  these  rosebuds  !  Dear 
rosebuds,  how  I  love  you !  " 

Then,  with  a  heart  filled  with  gratitude  to  the 
Giver  of  all  things,  she  knelt  beside  her  bed,  and, 
leaning  her  face  upon  her  hands,  thus  gave  vent 
to  her  feelings :  "  Great  God,  I  thank  thee  for  all 
these  beautiful  things  around  me  ;  for  these  sweet 
flowers  which  breathe  freshness  and  love  ;  for  this 
white  drapery,  which  speaks  of  purity ;  for  the 
bright  sun,  emblem  of  thy  glory ;  for  all  that 
is  under  my  feet  and  over  my  head ;  for  this 
comfortable  bed,  and  the  sweet  dreams  of  my 
guardian  spirit !  I  thank  thee  for  the  thousand 
sources  of  happiness  in  the  beautiful  world  in  which 
I  live !  I  thank  thee  for  the  silent  joys  which 
spring  from  my  own  glad  heart !  " 

She  was  still  at  prayer  when  a  middle-aged 


10  AFFECTIONATE   SIMPLICITY. 

woman  half  opened  the  door,  and  said,  in  a  low 
voice, 

"  Already  risen  !  " 

"  Is  it  you,  Mrs.  Abel?  "  cried  the  young  girl, 
running  to  embrace  her.  "  Good  morning,  dear 
friend  ;  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  first !  It  is  not 
very  early, —  look  at  the  clock, —  in  the  country 
I  was  dressed  every  morning  at  five !  " 

"  That  is  a  good  habit,  but  you  will  soon  lose  it 
here,"  replied  the  good  woman,  smiling.  "  We 
do  not  rise  in  the  city  as  in  the  country.  I  thought 
you  would  be  too  tired  to  wake  early,  after  the 
excitement  of  last  evening." 

"  The  thought  of  being  with  you  and  my  father 
has  caused  me  to  wake.  What  a  change  since 
yesterday  !  Certainly  I  was  happy  in  the  coun- 
try ;  shall  I  not  be  more  so  here  ?  " 

"  0  yes,  you  must  and  will  be  as  happy  as  any 
one  can  expect  to  be  in  this  changing  world ! 
You  are  good  and  beautiful ;  your  father  is  im- 
mensely rich,  and  you  are  an  only  child ;  this  will 
make  you  happy  in  the  eyes  of  the  world ;  but, 
my  dear,  your  happiness  depends  upon  yourself; 
you  are  in  a  responsible  situation,  and  to  the 


FILIAL  AFFECTION.  11 

evenness  of  jour  temper,  and  your  own  quiet  con- 
science, must  you  look  for  that  peace  which  man 
cannot  take  away.  I  am  glad  that  your  father 
has  taken  so  much  pains  to  make  your  room  beau- 
tiful ;  for  I  think  the  sight  of  beautiful  things  does 
us  good." 

"  My  dear  nurse,  the  sight  of  you  does  me 
good  !  "  said  Esther. 

Mrs.  Abel  embraced  her  affectionately,  saying, 
"  I  must  call  you  my  child,  my  own  dear  child, 
at  least  when  we  are  alone  !  " 

"0,  always,  .always! "  said  she,  pressing  the 
hands  of  her  foster  mother  to  her  breast.  "Last 
evening  I  was  grieved  when  you  called  me  Miss 
Le  Genclre.  If  company  requires  cold  ceremony,  I 
would  much  prefer  being  alone.  Are  you  not 
almost  a  mother  to  me  1  I  'm  sure  you  were  the 
first  person  I  loved,  and,  for  a  long  time,  I  loved 
you  only.  I  have  known  my  father  but  very  lit- 
tle, and  when  I  was  small  I  feared  him  much." 

"And  how  do  you  feel  towards  him  now?" 
asked  the  anxious  woman,  with  some  disquiet. 

;iAt  present,"  replied  Esther,  "I  love  him 
with  all  my  heart ;  but,  I  cannot  help  having  a 


12  FILIAL   CONFIDENCE. 

• 

fear  of  him.  I  don't  know  now  it  is,  but  with  all 
his  kindness,  there  is  a  something.  I  feel  towards 
him  as  I  did  towards  our  teacher,  who  made  us  all 
tremble  when  she  frowned." 

"  But  your  father  is  very,  very  kind !  "  ejacu- 
lated Mrs.  Abel. 

"  0,  I  know  it,  I  know  it !  "  answered  she,  witl 
animation.  "And  I  shall  understand  him  soon,  I 
hope.  You  must  remember  that  I  am  a  stranger 
here ;  yesterday  was  the  first  time  I  entered  his 
house." 

"Poor  child!  It  is  too  true!"  murmured 
Mrs.  Abel.  Then,  making  Esther  sit  down  by  her 
side,  and  looking  at  her  with  tender  solicitude,  she 
added,  "My  dear  Esther,  do  you  know  that  your 
father  will  present  you,  this  evening,  to  his 
friends  1  Does  not  the  idea  of  doing  the  honors 
of  the  house,  at  your  age,  trouble  you?  " 

"  0,  mercy,  no !  "  exclaimed  she,  with  care- 
less gayety.  "  I  intend  to  amuse  myself.  They 
can  expect  nothing  from  a  country  girl  like  me ! 
I  shall  act  myself !  " 

"  But  will  not  the  display  of  rich  dresses  and 
jewelry  dazzle  you  ?  Don't  you  feel  concerned 


A  NEW   THOUGHT.  13 

about  your  own  looks,  and  the  impression  you  will 
make?" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Esther;  "you  just  put  it 
into  my  head." 

"  What  a  child  you  are  !  "  said  Mrs.  Abel. 

"  Yery  true,  I  am  a  child,"  continued  Esther, 
becoming  more  thoughtful.  "  I  did  not  know 
how  ignorant  and  simple  I  was  till  yesterday. 
Since  then  I  have  made  a  serious  reflection." 

"Ah!     And  what  was  it?" 

"  I  have  asked  myself  why,  since  I  was  des- 
tined to  live  in  the  world,  my  father  has  caused 
me  to  be  educated  at  a  village  school.  I  almost 
fear  that  I  shall  miss  the  unrestrained  simplicity 
which  I  have  hitherto  enjoyed.  I  can  never  be  a 
fashionable  lady ;  I  have  no  taste  for  what  is  called 
society.  I  wish  I  could  be  with  you  and  my 
father." 

"  You  will  be  with  us,  my  dear ;  and  as  to  your 
education,  your  father  wished  you  to  be  as  the 
ladies  of  olden  times,  a  woman,  a  true  woman  ! 
The  education  of  the  boarding-schools  of  Paris 
was  not  in  conformity  with  his  ideas.  He  did  not 
wish  that  you  should  make  a  display  of  learning, 
2 


14  A  FATHER'S  AMBITION. 

talents,  or  accomplishments ;  he  wished  you  to 
learn  to  be  good,  and,  for  that  purpose,  he  placed 
you  with  honest,  good  people,  who  could  realize 
the  value  of  an  immortal  soul,  committed  to  their 
care.  You  have  been  with  them  sixteen  years,  — 
no,  ten  years,  for  you  are  but  sixteen  now,  —  and 
you  seem  to  be  what  I  have  prayed  that  you 
might  be.  God  grant  that  your  entrance  into  this 
house  may  be  like  the  shining  of  light  into  the 
dark  places  of  the  earth  !  " 

"  During  these  long  years  it  has  often  seemed 
to  me  that  I  must  be  with  my  relations ;  that  I 
had  no  father's  house  to  go  to  ;  he  came  to  see  me 
so  seldom,  and  you  almost  never,"  said  she,  with 
a  sigh. 

"Alas,  my  child  !  "  replied  Mrs.  Abel ;  "  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  be  with  you,  and  your  father 
has  spent  almost  all  his  time  in  travelling.  As 
for  me,  I  may  say  I  have  never  been  free.  While 
my  poor,  sick  husband  lived,  I  could  not  leave 
him.  He  is  no  more,  and,  God  willing,  I  shall 
devote  the  remainder  of  my  life  to  you,  though  I 
am  but  a  poor,  ignorant  woman,  who  knows  but 
little  of  the  world,  such  as  you  will  be  obliged  to 


A  TEAMING  HEART.  15 

move  in,  and  can  give  you  no  advice  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  you  should  demean  yourself  in 
it ;  but,  perhaps,  in  matters  which  concern  your 
interior  life,  and  the  feelings  of  your  heart,  I  shall 
be  able  to  help,  or  at  least  to  counsel  you ;  for  love 
will  often  supply  the  place  of  wisdom,  and  I  have 
loved  and  do  love  you  as  my  own  child." 

There  was  a  pause,  then  Mrs.  Abel  continued : 
"  My  child,  there  are  persons,  whom  you  must 
never  question." 

"  Do  you  refer  to  my  father  ?  "  asked  Esther, 
blushing  slightly.  "  Do  you  think  he  was  angry 
with  me  last  evening  ?  " 

"  Not  angry,  but  sad ;  he  is  always  sad  if  your 
mother  is  but  mentioned." 

"  How  unfortunate  !  There  are  so  many  things 
that  I  would  like  to  ask  about  her.  I  have 
thought  so  long  about  it.  But  you  can  tell  me 
something  about  my  dear  mother,  can  you  not  ? 
Did  not  you  know  her?" 

Mrs.  Abel,  sighing,  shook  her  head. 

"  But  you  must  have  heard  her  spoken  of;  she 
had  but  just  died  when  you  came  to  live  with  my 
father.  Were  not  the  people  who  had  waited 


16  THE  ANXIOUS  INQUIRY. 

upon  her  there  ?  Tell  me,  was  she  beloved,  re- 
gretted ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  said  she  was  gentle  and  good,  — 
they  loved  her  devotedly.  From  what  I  have 
heard,  I  doubt  not  but  that  she  is  an  angel  in 
heaven." 

"0,  I  have  seen  an  angel,  many  times,  in  my 
dreams!  Was  it  my  mother?"  sobbed  Esther. 
"  Tell  me,  pray  tell  me,  all  you  know  about 
her ! " 

"Alas,  my  dear!  Do  not  question  me  now. 
'T  is  a  sad  tale,  and  will  make  you  weep.  Your 
father  will  not  like  to  see  your  eyes  red.  You 
must  appear  as  cheerful  as  possible  for  his  sake  as 
well  as  your  own.  I  read,  somewhere  in  a  news- 
paper the  other  day,  that  cheerfulness  is  a  duty 
which  every  one  owes  to  society." 

Esther  inclined  her  head,  with  a  gesture  of 
resigned  submission.  For  a  moment  she  seemed 
to  wish  to  conceal  some  sad  and  troubled  thought, 
then  she  burst  into  tears. 

"What  is  the  matter?  What  ails  you?" 
asked  Mrs.  Abel,  sorrowfully. 

"Nothing,   nothing!"    replied    she,    sobbing. 


THE   SAD   REMEMBRANCE.  17 

"  'T  is  but  a  remembrance  of  my  childhood,  which 
I  hoped  to  have  forgotten." 

"Tell  me  what  troubles  you,  my  good  child," 
said  the  nurse. 

"  When  I  was  a  very  little  girl  some  ladies 
from  the  city  stopped  at  the  house  where  I  lived. 
One  of  them  asked  many  questions  about  me,  and 
I  heard  them  tell  her,  in  a  low  voice,  that  my 
mother  died  on  board  of  a  ship,  and  was  buried  in 
the  sea.  These  words  made  a  deep  impression  on 
me,  and  many  nights  have  I  awoke,  with  a  shud- 
der, thinking  I  saw  the  dead  body  in  the  water, 
swimming  near  me.  My  mother  !  dear  mother ! 
0,  tell  me  !  —  was  it  so  ?  " 

"Alas,  my  child!  'Tis  but  too  true!"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Abel.  "  I  supposed  you  were  ignorant 
of  the  circumstances  of  your  mother's  death,  and, 
therefore,  did  not  wish  to  speak  to  you  of  it." 

"Now  you  will  tell  me  all,"  said  Esther,  with 
a  sad  curiosity.  "  Tell  me  how  you  came  to  live 
with  my  father,  and  all  you  know  about  my 
mother  and  my  family,  —  what  has  happened,  — 
all  you  can  remember." 

"  Were  I  to  live   a  hundred  years   I   never 
2*  B 


18  THE  MOURNFUL  TALE. 

could  forget  what  I  know  of  your  mother ! ' 
responded  Mrs.  Abel,  with  emotion.  "  About  the 
first  of  Feb.,  183-,  the  fine  brig  St.  Jeromino,  of 
Cuba,  was  signalized  in  the  port  of  Havre.  The 
weather  had  been  stormy,  and  was  very  boisterous 
through  the  night ;  fears  were  entertained  that  the 
brig  would  be  lost ;  however,  she  was  seen  riding 
into  port,  next  morning,  dismasted,  and  bearing 
the  marks  of  a  hard  struggle  with  the  raging 
elements.  Many  people  rushed  to  the  quay  to 
see  her  enter.  I  went  also,  hoping  to  obtain  news 
from  my  husband,  who  had  been  long  absent.  I 
held  my  infant,  Michael,  in  my  arms.  Suddenly 
a  man,  pushing  his  way  in  the  crowd,  came  to 
me,  and  desired  me,  in  the  name  of  God,  to  go 
with  him  on  board  the  brig,  saying  that  a  little 
innocent  was  perishing  for  want  of  that  suste- 
nance which  I  could  give.  I  followed  him.  0} 
my  child,  what  a  picture  !  Everything  in  the 
cabin,  to  which  I  was  conducted,  was  in  confu- 
sion. The  furniture  here  and  there  ;  rich  silk 
curtains  soaking  in  sea- water ;  the  bed  empty  and 
undressed  ;  at  its  side  were  lying  the  clothes  of  a 
woman.  A  mulattress  was  seated  in  a  corner 


THE  MOURNFUL  TALE.  19 

holding  on  her  knees  an  infant,  a  few  days  old, 
who  seemed  almost  dead.  This  infant  was  you, 
Esther.  The  woman  put  you  into  my  arms ;  you 
was  cold,  and  your  eyes  were  closed.  I  pressed 
you  to  my  warm  bosom,  and,  with  great  difficulty, 
succeeded  in  imparting  a  little  nourishment ;  and, 
whilst  I  longed  to  see  you  revive,  I  involuntarily 
exclaimed,  '  The  Lord's  will  be  done ! '  I  was  so 
much  taken  up  with  you,  that  I  did  not,  at  first, 
notice  a  man  seated  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  with 
his  face  turned  towards  the  curtain. 

"  '  That  is  Count  Le  Gendre  ;  he  is  the  father 
of  this  poor  little  child,'  said  the  woman,  observ- 
ing me  look  at  him. 

"  { And,  the  mother? '  said  I. 

"  She  drew  near  me,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice, 
1  She  died,  four  days  ago,  an  hour  after  the  birth 
of  this  child.  You  should  have  seen  that  sweet 
young  woman  !  0,  it  almost  broke  my  heart  to 
have  her  thrown  into  the  sea  !  But  she  has  gone 
to  heaven,  I  'm  sure !  She  said  the  angels  were 
calling  her.  It  was  the  dreadful  storm  that  ex- 
cited her ;  if  she  had  been  on  shore  she  would 
have  lived.  There  sits  the  count.  He  speaks  not : 


20  THE  MOURNFUL   TALE. 

he  takes  no  nourishment ;  he  will  die.'  The  man 
who  sought  me,  came  and  begged  me  to  do  some- 
thing for  his  master.  '  I  have  tried  in  vain  to 
make  him  speak !  What  shall  I  do  ?  Heavenly 
Father,  help  ! ' 

"  '  He  only  can  help,'  said  I.  Then  a  thought 
came  to  me.  You  had  taken  a  little  nourishment, 
and  seemed  reanimated.  I  arose  and  approached 
your  father.  I  trembled;  I  wept;  I  could  not 
speak.  He  turned  his  head  towards  me ;  his  eyes 
were  dry,  and  his  look  wandering.  I  placed  you 
upon  his  knees,  saying  th^t  you  were  a  little  angel, 
whom  God  had  sent  to  console  him.  At  first,  he 
hardly  noticed  you.  I  spoke  of  your  mother ;  of 
your  dependence  upon  him,  your  only  parent ;  of 
the  Providence  of  God,  etc.  After  a  while,  he 
began  to  weep,  and  then  to  press  you  to  hia 
bosom  with  bitter  groans  and  sighs.  He  ap- 
peared calmer,  and,  the  same  day,  went  to  a 
hotel,  where  he  secluded  himself,  almost  entirely, 
for  six  months.  His  health  was  impaired,  and  it 
became  necessary  for  him  to  travel.  From  that 
time,  he  has  seldom  remained  in  Paris  more  than 


THE  PAINFUL   DISCOVERY.  21 

a  few  weeks  at  one  time,  and  has  seen  you  about 
once  a  year,  I  think." 

"0,  my  mother  !  my  poor,  dear  mother !  —  and 
my  father,  how  unhappy  he  must  have  been ! " 
cried  Esther,  her  face  bathed  in  tears,  and  with 
the  expression  of  profound  grief.  "  Now  I  under- 
stand why  he  looked  so  sadly,  and  answered  me 
as  he  did." 

"  Time  has  not  yet  consoled  him,"  replied  Mrs. 
Abel ;  "  but  he  represses  everything  that  can 
recall  this  sad  scene.  He  never  speaks  of  your 
mother,  even  to  me,  and  sits,  hour  after  hour,  in  a 
dreamy  mood.  0,  my  child,  may  God  have 
chosen  you  to  minister  to  his  spiritual  wants  !  I 
fear  that  he  has  not  learned  to  trust  in  that 
Being,  who  suifers  us  to  be  afflicted,  that  we  may 
turn  from  our  evil  ways,  and  find  peace  with  him." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Abel,  is  there  any  token  or 
remembrance  of  my  mother  that  I  can  have  — 
a  portrait,  some  hair,  anything  she  wore?" 
said  Esther,  interrupting  the  good  woman,  and 
evidently  absorbed  in  the  thought  of  her  mother. 

"  I  am  certain  that  nothing  of  hers  remains," 
replied  Mrs.  Abel.  "  Her  domestics  told  me  that 


22  HAPPY  ANTICIPATIONS. 

your  father  married  her  in  St.  Augustine ;  that 
she  was  very  beautiful,  and,  for  love  of  him,  will- 
ingly left  her  home,  and  all  her  friends,  to  come 
to  a  strange  country." 

"  Then  I  have  relatives  in  America  !  Shall  I 
ever  know  them  1  Are  they  there  now  ?  "  eagerly 
inquired  Esther. 

"That  I  know  not;  but  I  am  sure  that  you 
have  no  relations  in  France,  at  present.  Your 
father's  name  is  much  respected,  but  he  seems  to 
stand  alone." 

".Will  my  father  travel  more,  or  shall  we 
always  live  here?  I  would  like  to  go  to 
America,"  continued  Esther,  after  a  pause. 

"Your  father  says  that  he  shall  remain  here," 
replied  Mrs.  Abel;  "that  is  why  he  has  bought 
this  house,  and  arranged  it  with  so  much  magnifi- 
cence. Now  he  is  no  more  isolated ;  you  are  with 
him,  and  your  presence  will  bring  happiness  into 
this  house." 

Esther  lifted  her  clasped  hands,  and  said,  "God 
grant  it ! " 


CHAPTEE,    II. 

THE   PRESENTATION. 

THE  evening  of  the  same  day  Esther  met  her 
father  in  the  reception  room  a  few  hours  previous 
to  the  arrival  of  the  expected  guests.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  simple  and  tasteful  manner.  On  her 
head  was  the  most  beautiful  diadem  which  can 
encircle  the  brow  of  youth,  a  garland  of  roses. 
There  were  roses  also  in  the  folds  of  her  snow- 
white  dress,  and  the  mild  carnation  of  the  flowers 
increased  the  lustre  of  her  black  hair,  and  har- 
monized better  with  her  pale-brown  skin  than  the 
brilliancy  of  precious  gems  or  stones.  The  count 
regarded  her  with  a  mixture  of  joy  and  pride,  of 
love  and  sadness.  Then  he  sighed  deeply,  as  if 
this  contemplation  had  brought  some  sad  remem- 
brance to  him.  Making  an  effort  to  appear  tran- 
quil and  gay,  he  said,  with  a  half  smile,  ""Well, 
my  daughter,  how  do  you  like  the  looks  of 


24  A  FATHER'S  DEVOTION. 

things  ?  Is  the  house  arranged  according  to  your 
taste  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  know,  papa.  I  see  everything 
beautiful;  but  —  but  —  "  said  she. 

"But  what,  my  child?"  interrupted  her  father. 

"Are  all  these  things  necessary?  We  lived 
very  comfortably  in  the  country  without  all  these 
things  with  which  this  house  is  filled." 

"My  dear,  innocent  Esther,  you  must  not  ex- 
pect to  live  in  Paris  as  you  did  with  good  Mrs. 
Porter.  Here  we  must  be  in  society,  and  I  hope 
my  daughter  will  honor  her  father's  house,"  said 
Count  Le  Gendre,  affectionately. 

"I  hope  that  we  are  not  to  have  company  every 
day  ;  —  I  wish  much  to  live  with  you  and  Mrs. 
Abel,"  rejoined  Esther. 

"You  are  my  all,  Esther,"  said  her  father, 
seriously  ;  "for  you  I  have  purchased  this  house 
and  all  this  elegant  furniture,  which  seems  of  so 
little  consequence  to  you ;  for  your  sake  I  have 
given  this  entertainment,  and  if  it  is  not  congenial 
to  your  taste,  we  will  select  a  few  intimates.  We 
can  live  as  retired  here  as  we  choose.  To  see  you 
happy  is  all  I  wish ;  the  world  has  no  charms  for 


SOKKOWFUL  KECOLLECTIONS.  25 

me."     Here  he  turned  away,  and  paced  the  floor 
as  if  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  another  being. 

M.  Le  Gendre  was  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  but 
he  bore  evident  marks  of  inward  grief  and  the  ex- 
posure of  fifteen  years  of  travel.  His  figure  was 
remarkably  beautiful.  At  a  glance  one  saw  that 
he  belonged  to  a  northern  race.  But  Esther  had 
neither  his  traits  nor  his  physiognomy  ;  she  was 
of  a  type  more  beautiful  and  rare.  Still,  there 
was  a  strong  resemblance  between  the  fresh  visage 
of  the  child  and  the  wasted  beauty  of  the  father. 
She  charmed  most  by  the  striking  contrast  be- 
tween her  waving  black  hair,  satin  skin,  and  ruby 
lips,  of  the  torrid  zone,  and  her  clear  blue  eyes 
and  pensive  look,  so  characteristic  of  the  north. 
In  her  manner  she  was  simple  as  a  little  child. 

She  had  stepped  into  a  side-room,  and  sat  with 
her  hands  upon  her  knees,  when  her  father,  roused 
from  his  meditation,  followed  her.  He  looked 
at  her  pensive  face  an  instant,  and  then  said, 
"  Esther,  of  what  are  you  thinking  1 " 

She  sprung,  and  blushed  as  if  surprised  by  a 
culpable  thought;  then  turned  her  head  to  conceal 
her  tears. 

3 


26  THE  EXPLANATION. 

"My  daughter,"  cried  the  count,  in  a  sad 
tone,  "why  this  sorrow?  Why  do  you  weep? 
What  is  the  matter  with  you  1 " 

"  0,  pardon,  pardon,  my  father  !  "  replied  she. 
"  I  cannot,  I  dare  not  tell  you  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  anxiously,  and  said,  with  a 
voice  full  of  sweetness  and  tenderness,  which 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  severity  of  his  words, 

"What  signify  these  tears?  Speak,  Esther, 
speak  !  I  require  it !  " 

"  Heavenly  Father  !  "  murmured  she,  raising 
her  eyes  to  heaven. 

"Esther,  you  dare  not!"  cried  the  count, 
•with  an  air  of  sad  reproach. 

She  joined  her  hands  as  if  to  ask  pardon  for 
the  pain  she  had  caused  him,  and,  trying  to  sur- 
mount her  fear  and  her  emotion,  she  said,  "#Alas ! 
this  evening,  in  seeing  myself  thus  adorned,  at  the 
moment  when  I  am  to  appear  for  the  first  time  in 
society,  I  feel  very  sad.  I  think  of  a  person  very 
dear  to  us,  and  I  weep  to  see  her  place  between 
us  vacant ;  this  is  what  I  have  not  dared  to  say 
to  you,  my  dear  father." 

The  count  inclined  towards  his  child,  embraced 


THE  BRILLIANT  ASSEMBLY.  27 

her,  and  placing  a  finger  upon  her  mouth,  made 
a  sign  that  all  was  said  upon  this  subject ;  then 
he  walked  about,  to  allow  her  time  to  recruit 
herself. 

Esther  seated  herself  at  the  window,  and  turned 
her  moist  eyes  to  the  fresh  breeze  which  stirred 
the  leaves  of  the  trees.  Tears  still  trembled  upon 
her  long  eyelids ;  she  passed  her  handkerchief 
over  her  face,  and  tried  to  recall  the  force  and 
calmness  which  she  should  so  soon  need. 

At  this  moment  some  one  passed  under  the  win- 
dow. Esther  quickly  retired. 

"There  are  people  in  the  garden,"  said  she, 
approaching  her  father. 

"  Some  one  has  come  early,  and  walks  in  the 
garden,"  replied  he.  "  Without  doubt  there  are 
many  in  the  hall  awaiting  us.  It  is  time  to  re- 
ceive them.  Come,  Esther,  come." 

The  doors  were  opened.  The  brilliancy  of  the 
lights  in  the  gallery,  where  the  company  began  to 
assemble,  dazzled  the  young  girl. 

"  Come,  my  daughter,"  repeated  the  count, 
with  an  accent  of  proud  satisfaction,  as  well  as 
careful  protection ;  "  they  wait  for  us." 


28  THE  IN1RODUCTION. 

Esther  placed  her  trembling  hand  upon  the  arm 
of  her  father,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  led  into 
that  brilliant  assemblage,  with  a  heart  beating 
violently.  There  was  a  mixture  of  beautiful  and 
brilliant  women,  and  men  eminent  for  their  talents 
or  fortune. 

Mrs.  Abel,  in  a  modest  matronly  attire,  watched 
the  varying  expression  of  her  countenance  as  dif- 
ferent individuals  were  presented  to  her.  Inward- 
ly she  prayed  that  that  pure,  innocent  spirit 
might  not  be  sullied  by  coming  in  contact  with 
gross  and  sensual  beings,  whose  diminutive  souls 
seemed  hidden  under  a  weight  of  gold. 

In  comparing  Esther  with  others,  she  could  not 
help  saying  to  herself,  she  is  the  queen  of  the 
fete. 

At  first,  Esther  seemed  at  a  loss  for  words  to 
answer  the  flatteries  which  annoyed  her ;  but,  after 
a  time,  her  good  common  sense  came  so  well  into 
play,  that  she  found  no  difficulty  in  rebutting 
those  young  exquisites,  who  thought  they  must 
talk  nonsense  to  make  themselves  agreeable  to  so 
young,  rich  and  beautiful  a  girl. 

There  were  mothers,  who  felt  anxious  to  form 


SELFISH   CURIOSITY.  29 

an  acquaintance  on  account  of  their  sons.  There 
were  men  of  great  name  and  medium  fortune,  who 
thought  their  fame  might  be  an  object  to  a  mil- 
lionaire. Sympathy  and  admiration  for  the  young 
lady  were  mixed  with  calculations,  projects  and 
interests.  A  gentleman  of  middle  age,  whose 
religious  character  and  seclusive  habits  unfitted 
him  for  fashionable  society,  was  very  much  sought 
for  th.'3  evening. 

He  was  an  Englishman,  an  old  and  well-tried 
friend  of  M.  Le  Gendre,  and  he  was  the  only  one 
of  all  that  large  concourse  who  could  give  any 
reliable  information  respecting  the  count,  and  his 
intentions  with  regard  to  his  daughter. 

Mr.  Day  had  entered  college  with  a  view  of 
becoming  a  clergyman,  but  ill  health  had  driven 
him  from  his  books,  and  for  some  years  he  had 
managed  to  live  comfortably  on  a  very  small  in- 
come, devoting  his  time  to  the  education  and  im- 
provement of  the  poor.  The  hope  of  making 
himself  useful  to  his  friend  as  well  as  others,  had 
induced  him  to  take  up  his  abode  for  a  time  in 
Paris.  He  was  active,  cheerful  and  agreeable ; 
more  interested  in  the  young  than  in  people  of  his 


30  ARTIFICE   OUTWITTED. 

own  age.  He  was  very  penetrating,  and,  when 
occasion  offered,  sarcastic. 

"Deacon,"  said  a  smiling  dame,  "why  did  you 
not  speak  of  that  charming  young  lady?  I  did  n't 
know  that  the  count  had  any  children." 

"  She  is  nothing  but  a  child,"  said  the  deacon, 
carelessly. 

"We  used  to  be  very  intimate  with  the  Le 
Gendres,  but  since  the  death  of  the  old  folks  we 
have  lost  sight  of  the  others.  The  count  has 
spent  nearly  sixteen  years  in  foreign  parts,  I  am 
told.  We  believe  he  means  to  dazzle  us  now. 
What  became  of  his  brother  ?  How  much  prop- 
erty did  he  inherit  ?  " 

"  More  than  three  millions.  He  will  never 
marry  again,  and  this  child  will  be  the  richest  in 
Paris,"  replied  Mr.  Day,  coolly. 

The  lady  pretended  not  to  notice  these  words, 
but  continued  :  "The  brother  who  died  was  very 
different  from  this  gentleman ;  he  was  so  simple 
that  we  sometimes  thought  him  a  fool." 

"  Not  so  much  of  a  fool  as  many  people  with 
whom  I  am  acquainted,"  retorted  the  deacon ; 
"  but  he  had  no  fondness  for  society,  and  when  by 


CONCEALED   DISAPPOINTMENT.  31 

chance  he  was  thrown  into  company,  he  appeared 
more  foolish  than  he  really  was." 

"Why,  deacon,"  interrupted  the  lady,  "who 
is  that  tall  gentleman,  who  sits  beside  Mile.  Le 
Gendre  1  See  how  serious  both  look.  I  should 
think  he  was  a  minister,  and  she  about  being  con- 
verted." 

"That,  madame,"  replied  he,  "is  the  son  of 
an  American  planter ;  his  name  is  De  Lacy.  If 
he  is  not  a  minister,  he  is  a  good  preacher ;  and  I 
am  not  sure  but  his  sermons  might  be  more  useful 
to  us  than  to  the  child  with  whom  he  is  speak- 
ing." 

" Is  that  De  Lacy?  I  have  long  wished  to  see 
him.  My  son  says  he  is  rich ;  but  no  one  could 
judge  so  from  his  simple  style  of  living.  When 
he  pleases  he  is  very  fascinating ;  but  the  young 
ladies  make  no  impression  on  him.  I  declare  that 
is  the  cold,  puritanical  bachelor  !  " 

"You  have  said  enough,"  said  the  deacon,  with 
an  ironical  smile ;  "you  have  drawn  a  fine  por- 
trait of  that  good  man." 

When  De  Lacy  left  Esther,  the  deacon  ap- 


82  TRUE  DISCERNMENT. 

preached,  and  placing  his  arm  familiarly  in  that 
of  the  young  man,  led  him  to  an  open  window. 

"My  young  friend,  how  have  you  been  enter 
tained  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"  0,  highly !  Since  I  left  home,"  replied  he, 
"I  have  not  seen  a  person  who  pleased  me  so 
much.  There  is  no  art,  no  coquetry  about  her ; 
she  seems  an  embodiment  of  truthfulness ;  and 
glad  am  I  to  say  that  all  this  pomp  and  luxury 
of  her  father's  establishment  has  little  or  no  effect 
on  her.  She  is  better  pleased  with  a  rose-bud, 
than  a  jewelled  ring." 

"You  seem  quite  fascinated,  and  I  think  your 
judgment  good  ;  but  it  is  not  best  to  be  hasty.  I 
hope  you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  her 
often.  Situated  as  she  is,  you  may  be  very  useful 
to  her.  Her  father,  though  a  good  man,  has  little 
of  that  spirit  which  could  cheer  him  on  to  the  end 
of  his  journey.  He  is  at  times  moodish  and  de- 
sponding. All  his  immense  wealth  avails  nothing, 
if  the  heart  is  not  right,"  said  the  deacon,  seri- 
ously. 

The  heart  of  De  Lacy  beat  violently ;  he  felt 
a  peculiar  interest  in  that  young  girl,  and  in  her 


AN  AGREEABLE   SURPRISE.  33 

father.  He  had  seen  her,  as  she  sat  leaning 
against  the  window,  before  the  arrival  of  the  com- 
pany. It  was  he  who  walked  in  the  garden ;  he 
heard  her  sigh,  and  saw  her  weep,  and  he  was 
affected  by  it.  During  their  conversation,  he  had 
asked  her  why  she  wept,  and  she  had  told  him 
with  all  the  simplicity  of  an  honest  heart. 

The  deacon  tapped  the  young  man  on  the 
shoulder,  pointing  to  a  lady  who  approached 
them. 

"  Sarah  !  She  here,  too  !  It  seems  as  if  she 
were  a  shadow  about  me  !  Why  does  she  follow 
me?"  said  De  Lacy. 

"Remember,  she  is  your  cousin,  and  wishes  to 
favor  you  with  her  presence  ;  —  "  perhaps  't  is  all 
kindness  on  her  part,"  said  the  elder  gentleman. 

The  woman  to  whom  he  pointed  slowly  ad- 
vanced, leaning  upon  the  arm  of  a  young  man. 
She  was  very  beautiful,  but  her  beauty  was  lan- 
guishing and  faded. 

"Cousin,"  said  she  to  De  Lacy,  "what  an 
agreeable  surprise  !  I  thought  you  never  went 
into  such  gay  company.  You  did  not  tel?  me  that 
you  were  coming." 


34  THE  ENCOUNTER. 

"  Is  that  so  surprising  ?  You  did  riot  tell 
me  that  you  were  invited,"  coldly  replied  De 
Lacy. 

"  0,  no  !  I  came  here  by  chance,  merely.  I 
thought  my  evening  was  engaged,"  continued  the 
lady,  with  an  accent  which  betrayed  a  secret 
reproach.  Lowering  her  voice,  she  added,  "Did 
you  receive  my  letter  ?  " 

He  made  a  sign  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Then  you  did  not  expect  to  find  me  here  this 
evening,"  retorted  she.  "I  came  in  just  as  you 
were  sitting  by  Mile.  Le  Gendre.  I  must  ac- 
knowledge that  I  was  astonished  to  see  you  so 
much  occupied  with  the  frivolous  French  child. 
;T  is  damp  here  ;  let  us  enter." 

"I  hope  you  will  enjoy  yourself,  maaame." 
said  De  Lacy,  bowing  and  turning  from  her.  "It 
is  time  for  us  to  go,  my  friend,"  said  he  to  the 
deacon ;  and  they  took  their  leave. 

By  and  by,  all  the  company  retired  slowly, 
and  without  noise,  as  the  wave  which  abandons 
the  shore. 

Mrs.  Abel  and  Esther  were  thankful  to  know 
that  all  wcr»  gone ;  and  the  latter,  too  tired 


THE   RETIREMENT.  35 

and  confused  to  perform  her  evening  devotion, 
closed  her  eyes,  after  a  hasty  acknowledgment 
of  God's  bounty.  In  her  sleep,  she  thought 
of  one  whose  voice  was  sweet  to  her  ear,  and 
she  dreamed  of  a  home  in  far-off  America. 


CHAPTER   III. 

NEW  PLANS. 

AT  breakfast,  the  next  morning,  Esther  was 
quiet  and  thoughtful ;  she  felt  that  she  had  some- 
thing more  to  do  in  the  -world,  than  be  dressed 
and  receive  company.  The  manners  of  some 
of  the  guests,  the  evening  before,  had  led  her 
into  a  train  of  reflection,  in  which  she  had 
long  indulged  before  being  summoned  to  break- 
fast. She  met  her  father,  fearfully,  so  to  say,  for 
there  was  a  forbidding  coolness  in  his  bearing, 
though  his  lips  breathed  only  tenderness.  She 
looked  upon  the  rich  and  showy  furniture,  the 
massive  silver,  and  exquisitely  painted  china,  and 
sighed  ;  for,  though  she  admired  their  beauty,  she 
felt  that  they  brought  in  their  train,  domestics, 
style,  fashion,  all  that  tends  to  make  a  family 
cold  and  unsocial  within  itself,  and  she  began  to 
wish  that  her  father  was  not  so  rich. 


THE   PERPLEXITY.  37 

"  Well,  Esther,"  said  her  father,  "  what  shall 
we  do  to  amuse  you  to-day  ?  " 

"Whatever  you  please,  father,"  replied  she. 

"My  pleasure  is  to  make  you  happy!  "  con- 
tinued he.  "And  I  should  think  a  person  of 
your  age  would  form  some  schemes  of  sport. 
Will  you — "  Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
announcement  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Day. 

"  You  have  come  just  in  time  to  decide  an 
important  question  for  us,"  said  the  count. 
"  I  was  wishing  to  find  something  to  make  the 
day  pass  agreeably  with  Esther.  She  seems 
rather  serious  this  morning.  We  must  do  some- 
thing to  cheer  her  up." 

"I  did  not  know  that  I  was  serious,"  inter- 
rupted Esther.  "  I  was  thinking  whether  it  were 
necessary  to  live  just  as  we  do."  Then,  catching 
the  eye  of  Mrs.  Abel,  she  added,  "It  is  so  differ- 
ent from  what  I  have  been  used  to.  I'm  sure 
papa  is  very  kind,  and  I  thank  him  with  all  my 
heart." 

"I  presume  last  evening's  party  was  hardly 
what  you  wish,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Day.  "Yet, 
the  company  are  highly  gratified  with  your  splen- 
4 


88  THE  ELECTION. 

did  entertainment ;  and,  no  doubt,  M.  Le  Gendre, 
you  will  have  plenty  of  callers,"  said  he,  siginfi- 
cantly,  to  her  father. 

"  We  will  set  apart  one  day  in  the  week  for 
reception;  what  say  you  to  that,  my  good 
child?" 

"Certainly;  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  some  of 
the  company." 

"  Then  you  have  a  preference?  " 

"0,  yes!  I  saw  two  or  three  ladies  with 
whom  I  should  like  to  be  acquainted,  and  one 
gentleman ;  the  others  talked  so  much,  and  so 
silly,  that  I  could  not  bear  them.  I  do  like  sim- 
ple, natural  people ! " 

"  Did  you  find  any  with  whose  simplicity  you 
were  suited?"  asked  Mr.  Day,  carelessly. 

"  0,  yes  !  There  was  one,  I  don't  know  his 
name,  but  he  is  your  friend." 

"  My  friend  !     How  did  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  I  understood  it  by  your  manner  of  taking 
him  into  the  garden.  Don't  you  remember, 
speaking  to  a  gentleman  who  stood  near  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  spoken  to  so  many !  Was  he  not 
middle-aged,  and  of  common  appearance  ?  " 


AGREEABLE  INTERVIEW.  89 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Esther,  with  vivacity.  "  He 
was  the  most  elegant  man  in  the  room  !  " 

"Now  I  remember,"  said  the  deacon.  "It 
was  De  Lacy,  that  young  American,  and  a  fine 
man  he  is,  too.  I  have  long  known  him,  and 
shall  be  glad  to  have  him  make  your  father's 
acquaintance.  He  belongs  to  a  rich  family.  He 
came  to  Europe  for  his  health,  and  is  now  so 
deeply  engaged  in  study  and  philanthropic  pur- 
suits, that  he  purposes  to  remain  some  time  longer. 
I  have  never  met  a  sounder  youth.  I  suppose  he 
said  many  learned  things  to  you." 

"Happily  not,"  replied  Esther;  "for,  if  he 
had,  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  answer.  On 
the  contrary,  he  talked  to  me  in  the  simplest 
manner,  just  like  my  good  minister  in  the  coun- 
try, and  I  found  words  to  answer  him,  which  did 
not  happen  with  any  one  else." 

Just  then,  a  domestic,  who  chanced  to  be  in 
the  room,  turned  and  looked  her  in  the  face.  Her 
father  smiled;  and  his  friend  was  evidently 
pleased. 

"  I  have  again  spoken  like  a  child ;  have  I 


40  THE   REVIEW.  ' 

not?"  said  Esther,  looking  confusedly  at  her 
father. 

"  You  should  be  careful  how  you  speak,  in 
presence  of  strangers,"  replied  he;  "but  before 
your  father  and  our  good  friend  you  need  feel 
under  no  restraint ;  speak  openly,  speak  frankly. 
Tell  us  whom  else  you  noticed  last  evening." 

"  Some  very  queer  •  ladies.  There  was  one,  a 
lady  from  Washington,  —  that,  I  believe,  is  in 
America ;  she  was  almost  too  fleshy  to  move  about, 
and  wore  such  a  quantity  of  ornaments,  I  could 
think  of  nothing  but  a  story  I  once  read,  of  an 
old  lady,  who  used  to  put  all  the  goods  she  had 
on  her  own  back,  to  show  them  off,  for  sale.  This 
lady  came  to  me,  and  began  to  speak  very  bad 
French.  I  could  not  understand  her,  and  then 
she  brought  a  young  man,  her  son,  who  seemed  to 
have  given  the  tailor  and  barber  much  trouble  to 
try  to  make  a  man  of  him.  You.  should  have  seen 
him  bow  and  scrape.  I  could  not  help  laughing, 
and,  if  it  had  not  been  for  Mrs.  Abel,  I  think  I 
must  have  treated  him  rudely,  I  was  so  annoyed 
by  his  compliments.  Then  there  was  a  very  stiff 
lady  •  she  seemed  afraid  to  move.  And  another 


SELF-RELIANCE.  41 

lady  looked  30,  I  don't  know  how,  at  me,  that  I 
could  not  lulp  shuddering." 

"  Was  she  a  handsome  woman,  pale  and 
sickly  1 "  interrupted  Mr.  Day. 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther. 

t(  She  is  Sarah  de  Lacy,  cousin  of  my  friend," 
continued  he.  "An  unfortunate  woman,  with 
much  pride  and  ambition,  and  none  of  the  Chris- 
tian virtues  which  render  woman  lovely.  But 
time  is  spending;  if  you  will  go  with  me,  this 
morning,  I  think  I  can  put  you  in  the  way  of 
making  yourself  useful  and  happy." 

"Thank  you;  if  papa  is  willing,  I  shall  be 
most  happy  to  go,"  said  Esther,  in  a  lively  tone. 

"  I  will  ring  for  the  carriage,"  responded  M. 
Le  Gendre;  "and  Mrs.  Abel  will  accompany 
you." 

"  Never  mind  a  carriage,  my  friend;  our  limbs 
are  better  to  us  than  horses,"  said  the  deacon, 
smiling. 

"  You,  certainly,  will  not  take  Esther  to  any 
public  place  on  foot  — " 

"  Papa,  please  let  us  walk  to-day.     I  should 
like  it  so  much  !  "  exclaimed  Esther. 
4* 


42  CHILDISH  SOLICITUDE. 

"Have  jour  own  way,  child,"  responded  the 
count,  and  left  the  room. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  made  papa  angry  !  I  will 
run  after  him,"  and  she  opened  his  chamber  door, 
g3ntly.  He  was  standing  with  his  hack  against 
the  wall,  and  his  head  sunk  upon  his  bosom. 
"  Father  !  "  said  a  sweet  voice.  He  looked  up  ; 
moved  towards  her ;  stepped  back ;  beckoned  her 
to  be  gone,  and  closed  the  door  after  her. 

She  ran  to  her  own  chamber,  where,  meeting 
Mrs.  Abel,  she  threw  her  arms  about  her  neck, 
and  exclaimed,  uHow  shall  I  ever  know  how  to 
please  papa ! " 

Upon  inquiry,  she  related  all  that  had  happened 
in  the  breakfast  room,  since  Mrs.  Abel  left,  and 
would  have  given  way  to  a  flood  of  tears,  had  not 
that  good  woman  approved  of  all  she  had  said  and 
done.  Then,  preparing  themselves  to  go  with  the 
deacon,  they  went  to  meet  him. 

With  a  smiling  and  cheerful  expression,  he 
said,  "  I  hope,  ladies,  that  we  may  all  learn  some 
good  lessons,  to-day,  and  promote  not  only  our 
own  happiness,  but  that  of  others.  I  wish  to  have 


THE  ASSYLUM.  43 

you  make  some  calls,  and  not  upon  people  who 
ride  in  their  carriages." 

After  walking  a  few  minutes,  they  turned  into 
a  side  street,  and,  stopping  at  the  door  of  a  neat- 
looking  house,  Mr.  Day  took  a  key  from  his  pocket, 
and  ushered  them  in.  A  tall,  genteel-looking 
woman,  of  about  thirty-five,  conducted  them  into 
a  large  and  comfortable  parlor.  Mr.  Day  intro- 
duced the  ladies  as  friends  of  the  establishment, 
saying,  "  They  would  like  to  see  the  inmates." 
She  led  the  way  up  stairs,  and,  opening  the  door 
of  a  large  chamber,  addressed  herself  to  a 
sprightly  old  lady,  who  bustled  round  to  get 
some  chairs,  and  began  to  talk  with  great  vivacity. 
"  Lord  bless  you,  Mrs.  Gray  !  "Who  is  that  beau- 
tiful young  creetur'  that  you  're  bringing  here  1 
She  looks  just  like  a  friend  I  had  when  I  was 
young.  You  came  across  the  water,  did  n't  you, 
dear  1  0 !  0  !  I  see ;  you  're  bora  to  trouble ;  but 
you  have  the  true  heart ;  you  '11  outlive  many  sor- 
rows, and,  if  you're  always  good  —  you  know 
what  I  mean  by  that  —  you  '11  be  happy  !  " 

<'  How  you  talk,  Aunt  Nannie  !    What  will  the 


44  AUNT  ANNIE. 

ladies  think  of  you?"  said  a  prim  old  lady,  who 
was  knitting,  with  all  her  might. 

Esther  looked  around.  There  were  some  five  or 
six  old  ladies,  busily  employed.  All  looked  con- 
tented but  one,  who,  moping  in  a  corner  of  the 
room,  appeared  unconscious  of  the  presence  of 
visitors.  Mrs.  Abel  went  to  her,  and  kindly  in- 
quired after  her  health. 

"Well  enough,"  was  the  cool  and  crispy  answer. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  "  continued  Mrs. 
Abel. 

"No,  don't  want  nothing  of  nobody;  only  let 
me  alone." 

Meanwhile,  Aunt  Annie  had  completely  mo- 
nopolized the  attention  of  Esther.  She  was  show- 
ing her  a  large  basket  of  colored  rags,  from  which 
she  contrived  to  make  sundry  black  cats,  with 
yellow  eyes  and  red  lips,  and  little  braided  mats  ; 
the  ingenuity  of  which,  pleased  Esther  very  much. 
She  was  on  the  point  of  pulling  out  her  purse  to 
purchase,  when  a  look  from  Mrs.  Gray,  informed 
her  that  it  was  injudicious. 

"  The  lady  would  like  one  of  your  mats,"  said 
Mrs.  G. 


THE  RESTRAINED   HEART.  45 

"  Bless  her  heart :  I  'm  proud  to  give  her  the 
handsomest  I  have.  Pray,  choose,  miss." 

Miss  Esther  took  a  braided  mat,  with  a  stiff 
black  cat  in  the  centre,  and  thanked  the  old  lady 
heartily. 

Taking  leave  of  these  old  ladies,  they  followed 
Mrs.  Gray  through  several  apartments,  nicely 
furnished  with  white  window-curtains  and  coun- 
terpanes, and  such  furniture  as  the  necessity  and 
convenience  of  old  people  require.  Some  rooms 
contained  two,  some  three,  persons,  and  in  the 
upper  story  were  small  rooms  for  single  individ- 
uals. All  appeared  satisfied,  and  all  were  occu- 
pied— some  few  in  reading  and  writing.  One  had 
saved  a  quantity  of  newspaper  scraps  and  poetry ; 
she  expressed  a  great  desire  to  have  it  printed ; 
said,  "if  she  could  raise  one  hundred  francs  to 
print  a  book,  she  should  die  happy."  Esther 
would  gladly  have  given  them  to  her,  but  pru- 
dence restrained  her.  Poor  Esther  !  little  did  she 
then  realize  the  worth  of  a  hundred  francs. 

Passing  by  a  small  room,  the  door  of  which 
stood  ajar,  they  heard  a  male  voice  in  prayer. 
Esther's  quick  ear  caught  a  familiar  tone,  but  she 


46  NEW  ATTACHMENT. 

was  not  quite  sure ;  her  heart  beat  quicker  as  she 
passed  on. 

The  last  old  lady  was  entirely  alone.  Everything 
about  her  bore  the  air  of  former  gentility.  When 
they  entered  she  was  contemplating  the  miniature 
of  a  young  man.  She  received  them  very  courte- 
ously, and,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  expressed 
a  wish  that  some  one  would  read  the  Bible  and 
other  good  books  to  her ;  said  that  she  had  read 
so  much  as  to  impair  her  sight,  and  the  spiritual 
food  she  received  from  books  was  more  necessary 
to  her  comfort,  now  that  her  days  were  numbered, 
and  she  was  soon  to  be  in  the  spirit-land. 

Just  then,  Mr.  Day  made  his  appearance  at 
the  door,  and  the  good  old  lady  welcomed  him 
most  cordially.  After  a  few  minutes'  conversa- 
tion, he  opened  the  Bible,  and  read  a  portion  in 
the  Psalms.  The  old  lady  commenced  singing  a 
hymn,  in  which  Mrs.  Abel  and  Mr.  Day  joined. 
Esther  was  forcibly  struck  by  the  devotion  of  this 
person,  and  conceived  a  strong  attachment  for  her, 
and  desire  to  know  her  history.  Taking  their 
leave,  they  prepared  to  depart.  Mrs.  Gray  apolo- 
gized to  Esther  for  the  movement  she  h*d  made 


THE   KESCUE.  47 

regarding  the  mat,  saying,  "It  would  have  dis- 
turbed Aunt  Annie  much,  as  she  thinks  herself 
too  well  off  to  work  for  money." 

Promising  to  come  again  soon,  they  left  the 
house. 

They  were  within  a  few  steps  of  M.  Le  Gen- 
dre's,  when  a  cry  of  "  Help  !  help  !  Murder  !  " 
made  Esther  spring  upon  her  feet.  Mrs.  Abel 
involuntarily  shrieked,  as  a  wretched  girl,  with 
streaming  hair  and  tattered  garments,  threw  her- 
self into  the  deacon's  arms,  exclaiming,  "  0,  save 
me  !  save  me  ! "  He  had  just  thrust  her  into  the 
door,  when  a  ruffian  dashed  past  him,  muttering 
to  himself,  and  swinging  a  huge  club,  with  occa- 
sional oaths. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A  THRILLING  SCENE. 

WHEN  M.  De  Lacy  arrived  at  his  lodgings  after 
the  party,  he  found  a  little  boy  who  had  been 
waiting  some  time  for  him. 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  child,  "mother 
wishes  you  would  come  to  her  as  soon  as  you  can. 
She  thinks  little  sissy  is  dying." 

"  And  who  is  your  mother,  my  dear  ?  " 

"0,  I  don't  know,  sir!  My  dear  little  sis! 
what  shall  I  do  if  she  dies  ?  " 

"Has  she  been  sick  long ? " 

"  About  a  week,  sir." 

"  And  how  did  you  know  anything  about 
me?" 

"  Sissy  has  said  so  much  about  M.  De  Lacy, 
and  we  don't  know  no  other  gentleman  of  that 
name.  She  says  the  angels  are  beckoning  to  her, 
and  father  is  calling  her,  but  she  is  not  willing  to 
go  till  you  have  prayed  with  her  again." 


THE  DYING   CHILD.  49 

"I  have  prayed  with  her  !  Who  can  it  be ? " 
thought  he. 

'T  was  late,  but  he  hesitated  not  to  follow  the 
child,  who  led  him  through  many  narrow  streets, 
and  finally  into  a  court  and  up  six  flights  of 
stairs.  As  they  mounted  the  last  steps,  they 
heard  a  wailing  cry,  as  of  some  one  in  distress. 

"  Poor  grandmother ! "  said  the  boy ;  and^  hur- 
rying forward,  he  cried  out,  "Mother,  he  ;s  here ! 
he  ;s  come !  open  the  door  ! " 

And  the  door  was  opened  by  a  shadow  of  a 
ffoman,  holding  in  her  arms  an  infant. 

"  Is  this  M.  De  Lacy  ?  "  said  she.  "  God  be 
praised  that  you  have  come  in  time  to  close  the 
eyes  of  my  darling  !  " 

Another  wail  caused  him  to  turn  his  head.  An 
old  woman,  apparently  a  great  sufferer,  was  lying 
on  a  heap  of  rags  in  a  corner.  The  boy  ran  up 
to  her,  and  tried  to  soothe  her.  "  Dear  grand- 
mother, the  good  gentleman  has  come.  Shall  I 
hold  your  head  that  you  may  see  him  1 " 

"  This  way,  sir,"  said  the  anxious  mother,  fear- 
ing the  breath  of  her  child  would  be  gone. 

De  Lacy  approached,  not  a  bed,  but  a  board 
5  D 


50  POWER   OF  PRATER. 

extended  across  two  barrels,  and  covered  with 
rags.  On  it  lay  a  sweet  child,  of  about  eight 
years.  There  was  a  heavenly  expression  on  her 
countenance,  as  she  extended  her  little,  wasted 
hand  to  him,  saying,  "How  kind  you  are  to  come! 
I  did  so  wish  to  see  you  before  I  died !  I  hope 
you  will  take  care  of — "  Here  her  voice  faltered, 
and  she  lay  perfectly  still. 

"  0,  she  is  going  !  "  said  her  mother. 

Presently  the  lips  of  the  little  one  moved,  but 
no  sound  could  be  heard. 

"  She  wants  you  to  pray,  and  grandmother 
wants  you  to  pray,"  said  the  boy,  eagerly. 

And  he  did  pray  such  a  prayer  as  angels  might 
have  listened  to.  Reader,  have  you  felt  consoled 
by  prayer?  Do  you  know  its  soothing  influence? 
If  not,  pray ;  pray  with  your  whole  soul ;  pray  as 
did  this  good  man,  believing  that  a  gracious  God 
will  lend  a  willing  ear,  and  you,  too,  shall  rejoice 
at  the  last  hour,  when  the  lamp  of  life  is  feebly 
flickering. 

The  child  roused  up  as  from  a  pleasant  dream. 
"  0,  I  am  so  happy  !  "  said  she.  "  Mother,  you 
will  never  cry  again  because  you  have  no  bread 


DEATH  IN  POVERTY.  51 

for  us ;  and  bubby  will  be  so  good,  and  love  the 
kind  gentleman.  Grandmother  is  going  with  me, 
and  we  shall  leave  you  to  be  happy.  Dear  M. 
Lacy,  I  am  so  thankful !  Yes,  I  come  !  "  and 
she  lay  her  little  head  upon  his  arm,  and  quietly 
yielded  up  her  spirit  to  God  who  gave  it. 

M.  De  Lacy  desired  the  mother  to  lie  down 
with  her  infant,  and  take  a  little  rest ;  —  but 
where  was  she  to  lie  ?  There  was  no  bed ;  so  she 
sat  in  her  chair,  and,  hushing  her  infant  as  she 
pressed  it  to  her  bosom,  left  him  to  take  care  of 
her  dead.  The  boy  could  not  be  persuaded  to 
leave  his  grandmother,  and  there  he  sat  by  her 
side,  till  her  groans  were  lost  in  a  heavy  sleep ; 
then,  rolling  upon  the  floor,  nature  took  her  due, 
and  he  too  slept. 

When  all  was  still,  De  Lacy  took  the  dim  lamp 
to  get  a  nearer  view  of  the  dead  child.  He 
thought  he  had  never  seen  anything  so  beautiful 
as  that  cold  face.  He  had  closed  her  eyes  and 
stretched  her  little  limbs.  There  was  no  nice, 
white  robe  to  put  on  her,  or  white  flowers  to  place 
in  her  little  hands ;  but  she  was  beautiful  as  a 


52  WORK   FOR  THE   GOOD. 

cherub.  He  thought  and  thought,  but  could  not 
tell  where  he  had  seen  her. 

Everything  in  the  room  indicated  the  most  ab- 
ject poverty.  His  first  impulse  was  to  go  out 
and  bring  in  something  to  refresh  those  famishing 
bodies  ;  but  a  second  thought  was,  to  let  the 
sleepers  sleep,  and  take  care  for  them  in  the 
morning. 

We  will  leave  him  to  provide  a  new  home  for 
the  mother  and  children,  —  to  place  the  grand- 
mother among  her  aged  sisters,  where  nurses  and 
good  attendance  will  be  provided  for  her,  —  and 
go  into  the  kitchen  of  M.  Le  Gendre. 


CHAPTER    V. 

A  KITCHEN  SCENE. 

"I  HOPE  you  don't  think,  M.  Pierre,  to  dictate 
to  me,"  said  Elise,  the  lady  of  the  kitchen. 
"I've  always  had  my  own  way  in  every  good 
Catholic  family  where  I  lived.  It 's  none  of  your 
business  what  I  give  away." 

"I  think  it 's  our  business  to  take  care  of  the 
property  that 's  entrusted  to  us ;  and,  I  say  again, 
you  have  no  right  to  give  away  all  the  food  that 's 
left  at  every  meal.  If  either  of  the  ladies  were 
to  look  after  things,  it  would  n't  be  so,"  replied 
Pierre. 

"  So  you  '11  tattle,  will  you  ?"  cried  Jeannette, 
growing  angry. 

At  this  moment,  Mrs.  Abel  and  Esther  opened 
the  door. 

"Upon  my -word,  ladies,"  said  Jeannette,  try- 
ing to  cover  up  sundry  bundles  and  packages 
which  lay  on  the  table ;  "  I  did  n't  expect  to  see 
5* 


54  FAITHLESS   SERVANTS. 

the  ladies  in  the  kitchen,  or  I  would  have  had  all 
in  order.  'T  is  very  pleasant  in  our  eating-room. 
Would  n't  you  like  to  see  some  bouquets  that  were 
sent  me  last  evening  ?  —  there  they  are." 

"Presently,"  coolly  replied  Mrs.  Abel,  who 
was  looking  at  the  bundles.  "  What  are  in  those 
packages  ?  " 

"Some  things  of  mine,  if  you  please,'  returned 
she,  coloring. 

"But  I  will  take  them  out  of  our  best  nap- 
kins," continued  Mrs.  Abel,  deliberately  untying 
one,  from  which  rolled  out  sundry  bottles  of  wine. 
To  the  astonishment  of  Esther,  she  opened  them 
all. 

"  Why  did  you  say  these  things  were  yours  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Abel. 

"Well,  whatever  comes  from  the  table  is  mine," 
stammered  the  girl. 

"  Do  not  add  falsehood  to  theft,  you  wicked 
girl !  "  said  Mrs.  Abel.  Then  turning  to  Esther, 
who  stood  in  mute  astonishment,  she  asked  wheth- 
er it  were  best  to  dismiss  Jeannette  at  once,  so 
that  her  influence  might  not  be  exerted  over  the 


KIND   FORBEARANCE.  55 

other  domestics,  or  to  give  her  an  opportunity  to 
reform. 

Jeannette  looked  imploringly  at  Pierre,  who 
stepped  forward,  and,  bowing  respectfully,  begged 
them  to  give  his  fellow-servant  a  trial  of  at  least  a 
week. 

Esther  advised  the  same ;  and,  thinking  to  favor 
the  girl,  said  she  would  like  to  see  the  other  room 
and  the  bouquets  of  which  she  spoke.  Judge  of 
her  astonishment  to  see  her  own  bouquet  which 
she  had  passed  to  one  of  the  ladies  the  evening  of 
the  party,  with  sundry  flowers  cut  from  her  own 
pet  bushes ! 

"How  came  you  with  my  bouquet?"  asked 
she,  quite  excited. 

"  'T  was  picked  up  in  the  entry,  I  assure  you, 
mademoiselle,"  was  all  the  reply ;  and  Jeannette 
burst  into  tears. 

"  Unfortunate  child  ! "  said  Mrs.  Abel,  com- 
passionately, "thank  God  that  we  have  discov- 
ered your  wickedness  before  you  are  entirely 
lost ! "  and  she  and  Esther  withdrew. 

"  We  must  try  to  find  some  employment  for 
the  new  comer,  that  will  keep  her  out  of  the 


56  NEW   COMER. 

kitchen/5  said  Mrs.  Abel;  "and  we  shall  have 
more  than  enough  to  do  to  look  after  so  many 
servants.  I  wish  your  father  would  dismiss  half 
of  them ;  they  are  only  in  each  other's  way.  But 
you  would  do  well  to  advise  with  Mr.  Day,  before 
saying  anything  about  it.  We  must  not  annoy 
with  our  plans." 

Pierre  was  easily  persuaded  to  keep  this  inter- 
view of  Jeannette  and  her  new  mistress  a  secret, 
upon  condition  that  she  would  never  do  the  like 
again. 

Hardly  had  they  arranged  matters  satisfacto- 
rily, when  the  door  flew  open,  and  in  ran  Louise, 
the  dressing-maid,  followed  by  Christophe,  the 
cook,  laughing  in  a  suppressed  manner.  As  soon 
as  the  door  was  closed,  they  gave  vent  to  their 
mirth,  which  attracted  the  attention  of  the  other 
servants,  who  huddled  round  to  know  the  cause. 

"You  would  have  died  laughing,"  cried  Louise, 
"to  see  the  funny-looking  girl  I  have  had  to 
dress,  and  the  scolding  I  got  from  Marm  Abel  for 
laughing  at  her.  Would  you  believe,  she  said 
she  did  n't  know  what  to  do  with  the  hair-brush  ! 
I  asked  her  where  she  came  from,  and  she  said 


KITCHEN  JABBER.  57 

she  did  n't  kn:w.  She  don't  seem  to  know  any- 
thing. And,  to  cap  all,  she  is  to  be  Mrs.  Abel's 
maid.  Well,  I  'm  rejoiced  to  get  her  off  my 
hands ;  and  now,  if  I  don't  make  Miss  Esther  pony 
over  some  of  her  father's  cash,  I  'm  mistaken." 
Here  she  seized  Christophe,  and  they  whirled  two 
or  three  times  round  the  room. 

"You  should  have  heard  Miss  Esther  herself 
this  morning,  if  you  'd  like  to  hear  a  simpleton," 
ejaculated  Charlie.  "Why,  upon  my  word,  she 
told  her  father,  right  before  the  deacon  and  I,  that 
she  was  in  love  with  that  long-faced  American, 
the  one  I  told  you  about  at  breakfast,  —  who 
talked  so  saucy  to  a  fine  lady  in  the  garden.  I 
saw  her  brush  the  tears  from  her  eyes,  and  if  I 
had  n't  been  a  servant,  I  'd  sent  him  a  challenge 
and  made  him  sweat  for  it." 

"  Stop  your  bragging,"  cried  Christophe,  "  and 
tell  us  what  was  the  end  of  the  story." 

"  Ton  honor,  she  said  she  was  in  love  with 
him.  I  could  n't  help  just  turning  the  corner  of 
my  eye  round,  to  see  if  she  blushed ;  and  I  s'pose 
she  saw  it,  for  she  looked  at  her  father,  and  he 
told  her  to  be  very  careful  how  she  spoke  before 


58  KITCHEN   REPORTERS. 

any  of  the  other  servants.  '  You  never  need  mind 
Charlie,'  said  he ;  'you  may  trust  in  him  as  you 
would  in  the  deacon.  He  never  tells  what  he 
hears ;  and  he  's  as  truthful  as  the  sun.'  Halloo, 
what  do  you  think  of  that,  boys  and  girls  ?" 

"He  don't  know  you  —  don't  know  you.  Go 
on  with  your  story,"  exclaimed  half  a  dozen  voices 
at  once. 

"Well,  as  I  was  saying,"  continued  Charlie, 
"the  deacon  offered  to  take  her  to  see  the  —  the 

—  what  did  he  call  him  ?  —  0,  the  preacher ;  and 
her  father  said  Mrs.  Abel  must  go  too.     And  I 
believe  he  was  horrid  mad,  for  he  ran  right  up 
stairs, — I  stood  behind  the  door  to  watch  the  play, 

—  and  Miss  Esther  ran  after  him.     I  thought  he 
put  her  out  of  the  room ;  but  all  that  did  n't  pre- 
vent her  going ;  and  they  have  brought  home  a 
rare  specimen,  I  tell  you.     I  motion  that  we  take 
a  vote  not  to  have  her  in  the  kitchen." 

"You  need  n't  trouble  yourself,"  said  Pierre; 
"  I  think  the  ladies  mean  to  keep  her  away 
from  us." 

"Huzza,  huzza!"  cried  Christophe ;  "to-night 
we  '11  have  our  party,  and  a  glorious  one,  too,  if 


A   GOOD   TIME   BROKEN   UP.  59 

you  '11  all  do  your  duty.  Now  I  '11  tell  what  it 
is,  our  master  is  rich  enough  to  make  us  all  rich ; 
but  as  he  won't  be  likely  to  do  that,  I  say  let 's  at 
least  have  a  good  time  at  his  expense.  If  we  are 
careful,  they  '11  never  find  it  out.  And  as  to  the 
money  I  spend,  —  M.  Le  Gendre  knows  nothing 
about  the  price  of  things, —  I  can  tell  him  I  give 
more  than  I  do,  and  all  will  be  right.  Now,  if 
either  of  you  brings  us  out,  woe  be  to  him  ! " 

"  Come,  Mistress  Jeannette,  hand  over  your 
keys ;  we  must  crack  a  few  bottles  of  wine  to 
begin  with,"  cried  Charlie. 

"  That  she  shall  not !  "  cried  Pierre. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  you  got  your 
authority  !  I  '11  let  you  know  that  I  'm  master 
down  stairs,"  said  Christophe,  doubling  his  large, 
red  fist. 

"  Hands  off !  "  cried  the  women  ;  "  don't  make 
a  noise,  —  hush  !  hush  !  " 

The  bell  rang,  and  Charlie  and  Louise  both 
ran.  No  sooner  had  they  left,  and  silence  was 
restored,  than  Pierre  called  their  attention  to  a 
few  words  he  wished  to  say. 

"  Let 's  know  whether  you  're  Protestant  or 


60  MAXIM   AND   STOKT. 

Catholic,  before  you  begin,"  cried  Christophe, 
sneeringly. 

"  Well,  you  be  quiet,  Christophe,  and  let  some 
one  say  something  beside  yourself,"  said  Jean- 
nette,  seriously. 

"At  your  service,  madame,"  replied  he,  put- 
ting his  finger  upon  his  lips. 

"I  will  not  tax  your  patience  further  than  to 
give  you  a  maxim,  or  tell  you  a  story,"  said 
Pierre  ;  "  which  will  you  have  ?  " 

"Maxim  short,  and  story  long;  maxim  good 
for  nothing,  story  good  for  something,"  said 
Christophe.  "I  like  short,  and  I  like  good, — 
take  both." 

"  The  maxim  is,  that  '  Honesty  is  the  best 
policy.'  " 

"  Old  as  your  grandfather  Methuselah,"  mut- 
tered Marie,  who  had  hoped  to  hear  something 
new".  "Now  for  the  story;  and  make  it  short, 
for  my  work  is  waiting  for  me." 

"A  very  rich  gentleman,"  said  he,  "was  in  a 
small  out-house,  one  cold  night,  very  late,  when 
he  heard  the  crackling  of  the  ice,  and  a  light 
footstep.  He  looked  through  a  small  window, 


STEALING   FROM  HERETICS.  61 

and  saw  a  woman,  whom  he  recognized  in  the 
moonshine  to  be  a  poor  neighbor.  She  ap- 
proached his  wood-pile  and  took  thence  a  stick, 
then  replaced  it.  She  looked  up,  and  shuddered. 
He  stood  breathless.  Again  she  took  the  stick, — 
again  she  put  it  back,  saying,  '  0  God  !  must  I, 
can  I  steal  1  0,  my  ppor,  freezing  children  ! ' 
and,  wringing  her  hands,  she  turned  away.  Lit- 
tle did  she  think  that  any  eye  saw,  or  ear  heard 
her,  but  God's." 

"  What 's  the  end  of  the  story  ?  "  interrupted 
Christophe. 

"Why,  that  the  gentleman  took  care  of  and 
supported  her  and  her  family  the  rest  of  their 
lives,"  said  Pierre.  "Now  I'm  determined  to 
be  honest,  and  if  I  can't  make  the  rest  of  you  so, 
I  '11  leave  the  house." 

"  Good-by,"  retorted  Christophe  ;  and  after 
Pierre  had  left  the  kitchen,  he  said  to  Jeannette, 
"  'T  won't  do  to  have  our  jollification  to-night. 
I  'm  sorry  I  told  my  plans  so  freely, — I  'm  afraid 
of  that  fellow.  Is  he  a  Protestant  1  All  the  folks 
up  stairs  are  ;  and  I  assure  you  there  's  no  sin  in 
getting  all  we  can  out  of  the  heretics.  If  they 
6 


62  CHRISTOPHE'S  HISTORY. 

belonged  to  the  true  church,  as  we  do,  't  -would  be 
quite  another  story.  I  '11  take  money  to  church 
every  Sunday,  and  save  my  soul." 

In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he  went  out, 
saying  that  he  was  going  to  see  his  father,  and 
should  not  return  till  late  at  night. 

Poor  Christophe  !  he  had  never  known  what  it 
was  to  have  a  kind  father  and  a  'good  home. 
One  of  twelve  children  of  poor  parents,  he  was 
early  thrust  from  the  paternal  roof,  to  seek  his 
fortune.  After  wandering  about  fi-om  place  to 
place,  and  doing  jobs  for  one  and  another,  he 
found  a  distant  relation  of  his  mother's,  who 
offered  to  give  him  a  home.  This  man  was  a 
barber,  and  a  bigoted  Catholic.  He  obliged 
Christophe  to  attend  to  all  the  forms  of  the 
church,  little  heeding  the  culture  of  his  heart. 
He  taught  him  his  trade,  but  no  morality.  He 
fed  his  body  to  excess,  and  starved  his  mind. 
After  a  time,  Christophe,  growing  tired  of  this, 
connected  himself  with  a  band  of  strolling  players, 
and,  supplying  himself  from  his  uncle's  money- 
drawer,  ran  away.  In  the  capacity  of  player,  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  learn  to  read  ;  which  he 


CHKISTOPHE'S  HISTORY.  68 

did  with  great  facility.  Here  he  would  have  done 
well,  so  far  as  making  money  is  well,  had  he  not 
been  too  presuming.  In  less  than  a  year  he  quar- 
relled with  some  of  his  companions,  who,  uniting, 
gave  him  a  sound  drubbing,  took  all  his  money, 
and  left  him  to  look  out  for  himself. 

The  situation  of  waiter  in  a  restaurator  in 
Paris  presented  itself,  and  Christophe  flourished 
for  a  time  in  this  capacity.  Here  his  appetite  led 
him  to  look  into  the  mysteries  of  the  culinary  art, 
and,  in  process  of  time,  he  was  able  to  take  the 
place  of  cook  when  circumstances,  required.  Here 
also  he  became  acquainted  with  Louise,  a  maid  in 
the  establishment,  and,  under  promise  of  marriage, 
he  induced  her  to  give  herself  up  to  and  go  with 
him. 

The  name  and  wealth  of  M.  Le  Gendre  bore  a 
prospect  of  making  an  easy  fortune,  or  at  least 
leading  a  joyous  life  to  both,  and  they  were  glad 
enough  to  enter  into  his  service. 

Louise,  as  usual,  sat  up  for  him  that  night. 
He  returned  late,  —  was  intoxicated  and  abusive ; 
and  she  went  to  bed  with  sad  thoughts  and  gloomy 
forebodings.  Sleep  relieved  and  fancy  amused 


64  A   DREAM. 

her.  She  thought  she  had  hroken  off  all  connec- 
tion with  her  former  lover,  and  was  the  wife  of  a 
pious  young  man;  that  he  showed  her  a  neat 
little  cottage,  garden,  fruit-trees  and  vines,  and 
told  her  that  these  were  for  her.  Everything 
looked  smiling  and  bright  around  the  place,  and 
she  longed  to  take  up  her  abode  there,  but  a 
strange  something  held  her  back.  Struggling  to 
be  free,  she  awoke,  long  after  her  mistress  was  up 
and  dressed. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

DOMESTIC   ECONOMY. 

"  MY  dear  Esther !  Why  do  you  sit  up  so 
late  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Abel,  as  she  glanced  into  the 
young  lady's  chamber  at  midnight. 

"0,  I  am  so  happy !  "  replied  Esther.  "  Too 
happy  to  sleep !  Nor  did  I  think  it  \vas  very 
late.  Since  you  left  the  parlor,  I  have  read  to 
father,  and  he  has  talked  to  me.  He  was  as  kind 
as  any  one  could  be ;  and,  I  hope,  I  believe,  he 
felt  happy.  He  called  me  his  darling,  and  kissed 
me,  over  and  over  again.  If  I  can  make  him 
happy,  what  more  shall  I  desire  ?  I  wish  you 
could  see  how  beautiful  he  is  when  his  face  is 
lighted  up  by  a  pleasant  smile  !  I  told  him  that 
this  evening,  spent  with  him,  was  a  thousand  times 
more  agreeable  to  me  than  society.  He  seemed 
pleased,  and  promised  to  give  me  an  account  of 
his  travels ;  says  he  has  been  all  over  the  world, 
and  seen  and  suffered  much.  I  have  been  so 
6*  E 


66  A   FAITHFUL   HOUSEKEEPER. 

taken  up  with  him,  that  I  forgot  the  old  ladies, 
and  everything,  until  I  came  into  the  chamber 
and  saw  this  funny-looking  mat.  0,  I  have  lived 
long  to-day  !  Do  sit  down,  and  talk  with  me  !  I 
have  so  many,  many  things  to  ask  you  !  " 

"  'T  were  better  to  go  to  bed  now,  my  dear. 
It  is  bad  for  your  health  to  be  up  so  late  several 
nights  in  succession,"  said  Mrs.  Abel. 

Esther  warmly  embraced  her,  and,  with  a  heart 
overflowing  with  gratitude,  soon  retired.  Mrs. 
Abel  saw  the  necessity  of  a  well-ordered  house- 
hold. She  felt  that  she  was  responsible,  in  a 
measure,  for  the  welfare  of  that  company  of 
domestics  under  her ;  that  their  end  and  aim 
would  be  to  get  all  they  could  from  the  rich  man, 
who  had  commenced  housekeeping  on  a  very  ex- 
travagant scale,  and  thrown  them  into  temptation. 
She  was  very  suspicious  of  Christophe,  from  some 
conversation  she  had  overheard;  and  when  she 
found  Louise  neglect  her  duties,  to  remain  in  the 
kitchen,  she  resolved  to  sit  up,  and  try  to  find  out 
what  was  going  on.  She  heard  the  drunken  voice 
of  the  brute,  and  the  sobs  and  tears  of  the  un- 


LITTLE  KATE.  67 

happy  Louise.     But  she  thought  best  to  wait  for 
the  morrow. 

How  apt  we  are  to  look  forward  for  a  to-mor- 
row that  shall  carry  out  some  favorite  scheme, 
or  complete  a  task  for  us;  without  reflecting 
that  to-morrow  will  hring  us  new  duties,  which 
will  require  all  our  energies,  and  new  tasks, 
which,  seen  from  a  human  point  of  view,  appear 
too  mighty  for  our  little  strength  ! 


Kate  was,  as  Charlie  said,  a  rare  specimen. 
She  slept  till  after  all  had  done  breakfast,  then 
bounded  out  of  bed,  and  down  stairs,  in  her  night- 
dress, running  from  one  room  to  another,  and 
opening  every  door  in  her  way.  It  was  with  some 
difficulty  that  Mrs.  Abel  could  get  her  to  dress 
herself  in  a  proper  manner.  Then,  wishing  to 
make  some  arrangements  with  Esther,  she  desired 
Marie  to  attend  to  Kate's  breakfast.  Accord- 
ingly, she  brought  coffee,  rolls,  and  toast,  and, 
placing  them  on  the  table,  went  about  her  work  in 
another  apartment. 

Presently  a  scream,  as  of  one  in  distress,  at- 
tracted several  members  of  the  family  to  Kate's 


68  A   CATASTROPHE. 

room.  A  convulsive  laugh  from  Charlie  was 
followed  by  a  roar  from  the  whole  party.  Even 
the  gravity  of  Mrs.  Abel  herself  was  not  equal  to 
the  occasion.  There  was  Kate,  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor,  jumping  up  and  down,  with  arms  flying, 
like  a  dancing-jack ;  her  mouth  stretched  to  its 
utmost  width,  and  streams  of  coffee  flowing  from 
thence  to  the  bottom  of  her  clean  frock ;  the  cof- 
fee-pot was  lying  at  her  feet,  and  its  hot  contents, 
running  in  every  direction,  bore  the  melting 
butter  from  the  overturned  table  in  its  course. 
Broken  china,  sugar,  cream,  and  rolls,  were  scat- 
tered in  every  direction, 

"  Poor  thing  !  She  is  terribly  burned,"  said 
Esther. 

"  Good  enough  for  her ! "  exclaimed  Marie,  vexed 
at  the  sight  of  so  much  extra  work  for  her  to  do. 

"  How  could  she  have  done  it  ?  "  inquired  Mrs. 
Abel. 

"I  believe,  madam,"  said  Charlie,  "that  she 
filled  her  mouth  from  the  coffee-pot,  and  turned 
over  the  table  as  she  jumped  up." 

"Run  for  the  doctor,  Charlie!"  said  M.  Le 
Gendre,  who  had  just  come  to  the  scene  of  action. 


A   CHANGE.  69 

"  What  in  the  world  is  all  this  ?     Whoever  saw 
such  a  sight?     The  child  is  sadly  burned." 

The  doctor  came,  and  with  much  difficulty,  and 
by  dint  of  scolding,  succeeded  in  applying  the 
necessary  remedies.  Louise,  the  gay,  thoughtless 
Louise,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  the  house,  vol- 
unteered to  take  charge  of  her.  Mrs.  Abel 
approved  of  the  proposal.  She  wished  to  have 
Louise  near  her ;  to  learn  more  of  her  character  ; 
to  break  up  the  connection  between  her  and  Chris- 
tophe,  if  possible;  and,  by  persuasion  and  kind- 
ness, to  form  habits  of  industry  and  order,  which 
would,  hereafter,  essentially  contribute  to  her 
welfare  and  happiness. 

Dinner-time  came,  and  both  Mrs.  Abel  and 
Esther  welcomed  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Day.  They 
could  get  nothing  from  Kate,  respecting  herself. 
To  all  their  questions,  excepting  that  her  name 
was  Kate,  she  had  invariably  answered,  "Don't 
know."  And,  having  heard  that  their  friend 
attended  courts,  etc.,  they  hoped  that  he  might 
have  obtained  some  information  of  her  persecutor. 
But  not  so.  Mr.  Day  had  been  called  away,  to 
assist  M.  De  Lacy  in  the  care  of  a  dying  person, 


70  MISERY  OF  THE   POOR. 

and  had  almost  forgotten  Kate.  He  had  been 
among  the  vricked,  wretched  and  miserable,  so 
much,  that  the  sight  of  a  man  chasing  a  girl,  with 
a  club  in  his  hand,  made  less  impression  on  his 
mind,  than  upon  that  of  such  persons  as  his  female 
friends.  Yet  he  was  all  kindness,  and  when  they 
told  him  how  seriously  she  was  burned,  he  pitied 
her  very  much. 

"  But  what  do  you  think  of  a  girl  of  her  age 
not  knowing  how  to  use  her  cup  ?  "  asked  Esther. 

"I  am  not  surprised,"  replied  he.  "I  have 
been  in  a  small  room,  where  two  or  three  families 
were  huddled  together,  without  furniture  of  any 
kind.  I  have  seen  the  sick  and  dying,  on  a  heap 
of  rags,  in  a  corner ;  and,  when  I  have  asked  for 
water  to  cool  their  parched  lips,  have  had  it 
handed  me  hi  a  broken  bottle.  No  doubt  this 
girl  is  of  some  of  these  most  abject  ones  in  the 
city ;  and,  ladies,  if  you  have  patience  to  teach 
and  make  something  of  her,  you  will  do  more 
good  than  you  can  possibly  conceive  of." 

"  But  will  not  her  parents  claim  and  take  her 
from  us  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Abel. 

"I  think  not,"  answered  he.     "These  people 


TOO   MANY   SEEVANTS.  71 

are  so  poor,  that  to  be  freed  from  a  child  is  a 
matter  of  rejoicing.  And,  perhaps,  poor  Kate  has 
no  parents  living,  or  that  her  life  was  in  jeopardy. 
No  doubt  she  will,  by  and  by,  give  some  account 
of  herself." 

" Apropos,"  said  M.  Le  Gendre,  "can  you  find 
us  a  good  coachman? " 

"Papa,  if  you  please,"  interrupted  Esther, 
"  we  have  too  many  servants  in  the  house  now." 

"That  is  laughable,"  rejoined  her  father. 
"  What  do  you  know  of  housekeeping  in  so  short 
a  time  1  Have  you  been  into  the  kitchen  yet  ?  " 

"0,  yes,  sir !"  responded  she.  "And  from 
what  I  saw  there,  and  have  heard  from  Louise,  I 
should  think  they  had  not  work  enough  to  make 
them  industrious.  You  know,  papa,"  added  she, 
looking  affectionately  at  him,  "  that  we  are  not 
to  have  much  company,  and  that  Mrs.  Abel  and  I 
need  some  employment.  I  wish  to  be  your 
maid." 

"Good  child,"  ejaculated  he,  "you  are  too 
thoughtful  for  one  of  your  years."  Then,  turn- 
ing to  Mrs.  Abel,  he  asked  her,  what  she  thought 
of  the  number  of  domestics. 


72  WORKING  FOR  THE  POOR. 

"I  think  we  have,  at  least,  two  too  many," 
replied  she. 

"  Is  it  possible,  with  such  an  establishment  as 
ours?"  continued  he,  with  surprise.  "Well,  de- 
cide who  shall  go,  and  I  will  dismiss  them  after 
a  reasonable  time." 

This  was  a  difficult  point  to  both  the  ladies. 
The  good  ones  they,  of  course,  wished  to  retain, 
and  they  hoped  to  improve  the  bad.  So  they 
could  not  decide,  and  Mr.  Day  advised  that  they 
should  keep  them  all  for  the  present,  and  try  to 
find  sufficient  for  them  to  do.  "  Let  the  men  do 
more  of  the  women's  work,  and  let  the  women 
sew." 

"  For  whom  shall  they  sew  ?  "  asked  Esther. 
"We  are  all  well  stocked  with  clothes." 

"  And  do  you  suppose  that  all  the  people  in 
this  great  city  have  clothes  enough,  my  daugh- 
ter? "  asked  M.  Le  Gendre. 

"  0,  they  shall  work  for  the  poor ! "  said 
Esther,  her  face  lighting  up  with  pleasure.  "  I 
shall  like  that  much  !  " 

"  Don't  make  our  house  an  industrial  establish- 


SYSTEM  IN  WORK.  73 

ment,"  said  M.  Le  Gendre.  "I  don't  want  poor 
folks  round  the  doors." 

Thus  they  conversed,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
day  passed  quietly  and  pleasantly  away.  That 
night  the  whole  family  retired  early,  and  sweet 
sleep  and  pleasant  dreams  rejoiced  the  heart  of  the 
happy  Esther. 

After  her  morning  devotions,  she  sat  down  to 
arrange  in  her  mind  the  business  of  the  day. 
She  looked  back  upon  her  country  life,  and  re- 
membered how  much  work  Mrs.  Porter  accom- 
plished in  a  few  short  hours,  and  with  how  little 
bustle.  She  remembered,  too,  that  that  good 
woman  used  to  say  to  her,  "  Esther,  if  you  expect 
to  accomplish  much  in  one  day,  you  must  have  a 
system.  Arrange  your  work,  as  far  as  you  can, 
in  your  chamber ;  then  be  industrious  and  perse- 
vering, and  all  will  come  out  right." 

"Yes,"  said  she,  to  herself;  "I  have  much  to 
do,  and,  God  helping  me,  I  will  do  it.  I  shall  do 
everything  I  can  for  papa  myself;  that  will  bring 
me  in  contact  with  Charlie,  and  perhaps  I  shall 
have  something  to  do  for  his  good.  Then  those 
old  ladies ;  I  must  go  and  read  to  them.  I  am 
7 


74  CONFESSION. 

so  happy  that  I  can  be  useful !  'T  is  nice  to  have 
money  enough,  too,  for  all  we  need,  and  papa  is 
very  generous.  I  must  buy  something  for  Aunt 
Nannie !  "  Saying  this,  she  cast  her  eyes  upon 
the  stiff  black  cat  on  the  little  mat,  whose  great 
white  eyes  seemed  to  be  winking  in  the  bright 
morning  sun.  Just  at  this  moment,  Louise 
entered,  and  apologized  for  being  tardy  again. 

"0,  my  dear  Miss  Esther,  how  happy  you 
look  !  "  said  she,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Louise,  my  good  girl,  I  trust  you  are  not 
unhappy  on  that  account,"  replied  Esther.  "  Why 
should  I  not  be  happy  ?  Have  I  not  every  bless- 
ing—  kind  friends,  good  health,  and  all  these 
sweet  smiling  flowers  around  me?  Surely,  you 
will  thank  God,  with  me,  for  all  his  mercies." 

"  0,  Miss  Esther,  you  are  good,  and  ought  to 
be  happy  !  And  I  am  wicked,  and  —  " 

"  Are  you  wicked  ?  Poor  girl,  how  much  I 
pity  you  !  What  can  I  do  to  make  you  good  and 
happy,  too?" 

Here  Louise,  deeply  afiected  by  the  earnest 
tone  of  Esther's  voice,  opened  her  heart  freely ; 
confessed  her  wicked  intention  of  trying  to  steal 


SYMPATHY.  75 

from  her,  and  begged  her  help  in  freeing  herself 
from  the  tyranny  of  Christophe. 

Esther  sympathized  deeply  with  the  heart- 
stricken  girl ;  and,  as  was  her  usual  custom  in 
trying  cases,  had  recourse  to  Him,  who  makes  the 
simple  wise.  After  a  few  moments'  silence,  as  if 
struck  by  a  happy  thought,  she  proposed  to  ask 
Mr.  Day  to  find  a  place  for  Christophe  out  of 
their  family,  and  look  after  him ;  to  which  Louise 
thankfully  acceded. 

Esther's  cheerful  and  happy  face  elicited  smiles 
even  from  her  sad  and  stern  parent ;  and,  before 
the  reception  day  came  round,  she  had  won  the 
hearts  of  nearly  all  the  domestics.  Charlie  declared 
that  she  really  knew  much  more  than  he  thought 
she  did,  and  that  she  was  a  first-rate  mistress. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  ENCHANTMENT  OF  BENEVOLENCE. 

t;  WHY  were  you  not  at  M.  Le  Gendre's  yes- 
terday?" said  Deacon  Day  to  his  friend  De 
Lacy. 

"I  can  hardly  tell,"  replied  the  latter,  " un- 
less the  fear  of  meeting  my  cousin  prevented 
me." 

"  What  is  there  about  her  that  you  dislike?" 
inquired  Mr.  Day.  "  She  is  very  handsome, 
appears  talented,  and,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  is 
what  the  world  calls  a  fine  woman." 

"You  should  know  her  well  to  judge  of  her 
character.  I  believe  her  capable  of  doing  almost 
anything,  to  answer  her  own  purpose.  Unfortu- 
nately for  me, —  for  both  of  us,  I  may  say, —  our 
parents,  who  are  wealthy  planters,  and  whose 
estates  join,  had  determined  to  unite  us  ;  and  my 
father  made  it  his  dying  request.  I  could  not 
promise  to  comply,  for  I  never  loved  her.  My 


GENEROSITY   REJECTED.  77 

mother  was  disappointed,  but  did  not  blame  me. 
It  is  true  that  I  came  to  this  country  for  my 
health  ;  but  not  wholly  for  that.  I  never  dreamed 
that  she  would  follow  me  ;  —  indeed,  I  hoped  ab- 
sence would  wean  her  affections.  As  for  myself, 
I  resolved  to  labor  for  my  fellow-creatures,  and 
yield  a  willing  sacrifice  to  the  Lord's  service,  and 
think  I  could  be  happy  in  my  calling  if  Sarah 
were  not  a  shadow  in  my  path.  'T  is  a  painful 
thing  to  be  so  beloved  without  being  able  to 
reciprocate." 

"My  dear,  young  friend,"  said  the  deacon, 
"  you  make  too  serious  a  matter  of  it.  All  you 
have  to  do  is,  to  tell  the  lady  that  you  never  can 
marry  her  ;  or,  if  you  meet  with  the  right  person, 
tell  her  that." 

"You  are  very  much  mistaken,  my  good  sir," 
replied  De  Lacy,  mournfully.  "  She  is  passion- 
ate and  jealous.  God  knows  my  heart ;  how  much 
I  pity  her,  and  how  seriously  I  have  talked  and 
reasoned  with  her.  I  could  do  anything  for  her 
happiness  but  marry  her.  I  have  even  offered  to 
give  up  all  claim  to  the  estate  of  our  aunt,  which 
is  to  be  divided  between  us,  but  she  will  not  hear 
7* 


78  A  TRUE   WOMAN. 

a  word  of  it.  If  I  go  to  church,  to  prayer-meet- 
ing, to  a  friend's  house,  invited  or  uninvited,  she 
is  sure  to  be  there.  I  have  been  so  much  annoyed 
by  her  that  I  have  several  times  determined  to 
leave  Paris." 

"  That  you  must  not  till  you  have  seen  Esther 
Le  Gendre  once  more,"  said  the  deacon. 

"If  I  see  her  often  I  fear  I  shall  be  tempted 
to  stay.  She  seemed  to  realize  my  idea  of  a 
woman,"  responded  De  Lacy,  with  more  anima- 
tion. 

"What,  is  your  idea  of  a  woman?  We  give 
the  term  woman  to  females  in  general,  but  you 
seem  to  make  a  distinction.  Come,  enlighten  me 
a  little,"  said  the  deacon. 

"  By  a  true  woman,"  answered  the  young  man, 
"I  mean,  neither  the  doll,  who  is  dressed  for 
show,  and  good  for  nothing  else ;  nor  the  heart- 
less, headless  indolent,  who  sits  the  live-long  day 
doing  nothing,  like  my  Cousin  Sarah;  nor  the 
busy,  driving  bustler,  who  carries  news  from 
house  to  house ;  but  I  mean  —  0,  deacon,  you 
laugh !  —  you  know  what  I  mean, — a  substantial, 
common-sense  person,  who  has  a  purpose  in  life  j 


THE  HAPPY  DEATH-BED.  79 

to  whom  the  whole  world  are  brothers  and  sisters, 
and  who  fears  not  to  do  her  duty,  let  it  be  what  it 
may.  In  short,  I  mean  one  who  knows  the  worth 
of  her  soul  and  her  life." 

"  Come,  will  you  meet  me  at  M.  Le  Gendre's 
to-morrow  morning  after  breakfast  ?  "  interrupted 
the  deacon.  "I  shall  expect  you;"  and,  with 
one  of  his  peculiar  smiles,  he  turned  away. 

"Well,  that  is  odd  enough,  to  cut  the  conver- 
sation so  short,"  said  De  Lacy  to  himself;  and 
directed  his  steps  to  the  sick  old  grandmother, 
whom  he  had  left  the  evening  before.  When  he 
arrived,  the  matron  gave  him  a  hearty  welcome, 
saying, 

"You  have  come  in  time  to  receive  her  blessing 
before  she  dies.  And  she  is  so  happy,  ?t  will  do 
you  good,  as  I  am  sure  it  will  all  of  us." 

It  was,  indeed,  a  happy  scene.  The  daughter 
and  son  were  kneeling  at  the  bed-side,  while  the 
old  lady,  seemingly  held  communion  with  the 
blessed  messengers  who  were  about  to  take  her 
spirit  to  its  heavenly  home.  There  were  no  lam- 
entations ;  and  the  few  tears  that  were  shed  were 
tears  of  joy  that  her  prayer  to  depart  was  so  soon 


80  THE   WRETCHED   INVALID. 

answered.  Her 'death  seemed  to  have  a  soothing 
influence  on  the  other  old  ladies  of  the  establish- 
ment; even  the  morose  Madam  Fievre  volunta- 
rily united  in  prayer  with  the  family,  and  spoke 
kindly  to  the  boy. 

A  messenger  from  Sarah  informed  M.  De  Lacy 
that  she  was  very  ill,  and  requested  to  see  him. 
Accordingly,  he  went  and  found  her  dangerously 
sick  of  fever,  and  more  impatient  than  he  had 
ever  seen  her.  She  thought  the  climate  uncon- 
genial, and  tried  to  persuade  him  to  travel  through 
Italy  with  her  when  she  was  able ;  which  he 
kindly  declined  to  do.  When  she  questioned  him 
concerning  his  duties,  and  ascertained  that  he 
considered  them  with  the  poor  and  wretched,  she 
became  almost  angry,  and  declared  herself  dis- 
graced by  such  a  relative,  and  that,  instead  of 
going  to  Italy,  she  would  return  home.  She  also 
charged  her  illness  upon  his  unkind  treatment, 
and  placed  on  him  the  responsibility  of  whatever 
might  happen  to  her. 

M.  De  Lacy  tried  to  reason  with  her,  but  in 
vain ;  she  was  incorrigible  and  almost  abusive. 
He  pitied  her  ;  and  being  glad  to  have  her  return 


ROUSING  FROM  A  REVERIE.       81 

to  America,  he  would  have  assisted  her  willingly, 
—  the  more  so,  as  her  health  was  so  feeble, — 
but  she  refused  his  offer,  and  he  left  her  deeply 
excited. 

He  also  passed  a  sleepless  night.  The  idea  of 
being  the  involuntary  cause  of  suffering  to  a  fel- 
low-creature was  painful  to  his  tender  heart.  But 
what  could  he  do  1  He  examined  himself  care- 
fully, yet  conscience  accused  him  of  nothing,  and 
he  resolved  to  leave  all  to  the  guidance  of  a  kind 
Providence. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  he  found  him- 
self before  the  door  of  M.  Le  Gendre,  and  was 
deliberating  whether  to  ring  or  not,  when  a  wild 
laugh,  and  a  shower  of  cold  water  from  a  window 
above,  roused  him  from  his  reverie.  At  this  mo- 
ment Charlie  opened  the  door,  and  he  entered. 
After  wiping  and  brushing,  he  was  ushered  into 
the  breakfast  room,  where,  were  M.  Le  Gendre, 
the  deacon,  Mrs.  Abel  and  Esther.  They  ex- 
pressed great  pleasure  in  seeing  him,  and  in  a  few 
moments  he  felt  as  if  among  dear  friends.  Mr. 
Day  had  told  him  so  much  about  Kate,  that  he 

F 


82  THE  NONDESCRIPT   SERVANT. 

naturally  felt  indebted  to  her  for  the  shower,  and 
wished  to  see  her. 

Mrs.  Abel  led  the  way  up  stairs,  and  Kate  was 
found  before  the  mirror  in  Esther's  room,  trying 
on  a  silk  dress  which  she  had  taken  from  the 
wardrobe,  her  long  hair  hanging  over  her  shoul- 
ders dripping  with  water. 

"  How  came  you  in  this  room,  with  Miss 
Esther's  dress  on  ?  "  said  the  good  woman. 

A  loud  laugh  was  the  only  response. 

"  Do  you  know  me,  Kate  ?  "  said  De  Lacy. 

She  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

1 '  Where  have  you  seen  me  ?  "  asked  he. 

And  to  this  and  other  questions  she  only  gave 
the  usual —  "  Don't  know." 

The  deacon  was  anxious  to  hear  what  M.  De 
Lacy  thought  of  Kate. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  she  is  either  non  compos. 
or  very  cunning  ;  't  will  be  difficult  to  tell  which, 
for  some  time.  I  should  judge  that  it  would  be 
best  to  try  to  keep  her  employed.  She  must  be 
active  to  go  about  on  those  lame  feet.  Have  you 
set  about  teaching  her  anything  ?  "  said  he.  turn- 
ing to  Esther. 


A  NEW   SCHEME.  83 

"We  have  tried  to  get  her  to  sew,"  replied 
she,  "but  thus  far  without  success.  It  seems 
impossible  to  fix  her  attention ;  and,  if  we  do  place 
the  needle  between  her  fingers,  she  almost  inva- 
riably sticks  it  where  she  ought  not.  She  has 
already  spoiled  many  things  for  us,  besides  hurt- 
ing Louise  badly." 

"Poor  Louise!"  said  Mrs.  Abel;  "her  pa- 
tience is  sadly  tried,  and  she  is  doing  admirably. 
I  am  very  glad  that  she  is  in  our  company  so 
much  of  her  time." 

"And  so  am  I,"  said  Esther.  "I  find  her 
always  kind  and  pleasant.  Perhaps  M.  De  Lacy 
can  put  us  in  the  way  of  teaching  Kate  something 
that  will  occupy  her  attention,  and  make  her  less 
troublesome." 

"It  strikes  meHhat  music  might  have  a  sooth- 
ing influence  on  her,"  rejoined  De  Lacy.  "I 
have  often  tried  it  with  good  success  ;  and,  if  you 
like,  I  will  bring  a  music-box  with  me  the  next 
time  I  come,  and  we  will  see  how  it  will  affect 
her." 

"No  doubt  it  will  seem  strange  to  you  that 
Esther  has  not  learned  music.  Indeed,  I  begin 


84  THE   GENEROUS   PROPOSAL. 

to  feel  almost  sorry,  that  I  have  kept  her  so  se- 
cluded. I  find  I  have  lost  many  years  that  1 
might  have  enjoyed' with  her,"  said  M.  Le  Gendre, 
thoughtfully. 

"Never  mind,  dear  father,"  exclaimed  Esther; 
"  we  shall  enjoy  it  all  the  more,  now  that  we  are 
together.  And  cannot  you  yourself  teach  me 
music  ?  " 

"I  think  not,  my  child,"  answered  the  father, 
as  a  shade  came  over  his  face,  the  index  of  a  sad 
thought  which  troubled  him. 

The  deacon  saw  it,  and,  turning  to  De  Lacy, 
said,  in  a  half-serious  manner,  "You  are  a  fine 
pianist,  why  not  turn  teacher  ?  " 

"  I  will  most  thankfully  do  whatever  I  can  to 
serve  your  friend,"  was  the  reply.  And  he  arose 
to  take  his  leave. 

"  Come  again  very  soon,"  said  M.  Le  Gendre. 
"I  am  sure  the  ladies  will  be  impatient  to  test 
your  music  upon  Kate.  Your  stay  ia  much  too 
short." 

After  he  had  retired,  the  deacon  amused  the 
company  with  accounts  of  De  Lacy's  benevolence. 
When  he  spoke  of  the  old  ladies,  Esther  wished  to 


THE   PIOUS   OLD   LADY.  85 

know  more  of  Aunt  Nannie  and  the  one  who  had 
recently  died. 

Mrs.  Abel  wished  to  know  something  of  the  one 
who  desired  to  be  left  to  herself,  and  the  pious  old 
lady  whose  eyes  prevented  her  reading. 

"I  learned  from  one  of  her  relations,"  said  Mr. 
Day,  "that  the  old  lady,  whom  you  rightly  call 
pious,  was  once  a  very  wicked  woman ;  and  that 
a  son-in-law  was  instrumental  in  her  conversion. 
It  appears  that  she  married  a  widower  in  com- 
fortable circumstances,  —  rendered  him  unhappy, 
and  abused  his  only  child  ;  that  a  series  of  mis- 
fortunes made  her  dependent  on  this  son,  who 
proved  to  be  a  superior  person,  and  succeeded  in 
bringing  her  to  a  full  sense  of  her  errors.  They 
lived  very  happily  together  till  separated  by  death. 
To  look  at  his  miniature,  and  talk  of  his  virtues. 
are  her  most  pleasant  occupations.  I  should  have 
said  that  she  is  in  the  Home  from  choice,  having 
a  sufficiency  for  her  few  wants  while  she  lives, 
which  cannot  be  long." 

"Why,"  interrupted  Esther;  "she  looks  pretty 
well." 

"A  tumor,  my  dear,"  replied  he,  "warns  her 


86       DREAD  OF  DEATH  REMOVED. 

that  her  end  is  approaching ;  and,  glad  am  I  to 
say,  that  she  looks  forward  with  pleasure  to  the 
time  when  she  shall  be  no  more  in  the  world." 

"Is  that  what  you  call  a  Christian  spirit?" 
asked  M.  Le  Gendre. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Day.  "  She  is  will- 
ing to  live  God's  time ;  yet,  happy  to  go  when 
he  calls.  She  often  says  she  has  been  thrice 
warned,  —  by  an  accident  which  deprived  her  of 
a  limb  ;  by  the  death  of  her  darling ;  and  by  this 
tumor,  which,  gnawing  at  her  heart-strings,  seems 
to  say,  'be  ready.'  Had  she  the  health  or  power 
to  be  useful  to  her  fellow-creatures,  I  doubt  not 
but  that  she  would  pray  to  be  spared  a  little 
longer." 

"I  do  not  understand  how  people  can  be  so 
ready  and  willing  to  die,  unless  under  some  ex- 
citement," continued  M.  Le  Gendre.  "I  have 
known  men  offer  to  do  and  to  be  anything,  if  so 
their  life  might  be  spared.  And,  in  a  violent 
storm,  I  have  seen  the  most  hardened  and  aban- 
doned throw  themselves  on  their  knees  and  pray 
such  prayers  as  would  make  your  ears  tingle. 
But  it  was  the  fear  of  death  that  moved  their 


THE   TRUE   SECRET.  87 

strong  and  stubborn  souls,  for  they  always  prayed 
for  life." 

" True,  my  good  friend,"  said  Mr.  Day ;  "but 
these  are  not  our  examples.  Those  who  are  hap- 
py in  the  thought  of  death  are  usually  those  who 
look  beyond  the  limits  of  time.  They  live  not  for 
themselves  alone,  but  for  others.  Their  lives  are 
earnest,  for  they  have  an  object  in  view,  and  that 
object  is  the  service  of  their  Father  in  heaven. 
0,  M.  Le  Gendre,  could  you  have  seen  the  strong 
faith  of  the  tender  child,  whose  life  had  been 
bright  as  a  summer's  day,  you,  too,  would  say 
there  is  a  something  pleasant  in  death  !  I  can 
never  forget  how  my  sister  called  us  all  around 
her  bedside,  and  bade  us  farewell,  with  a  face 
lightened  up  by  the  hope  of  glory.  '  I  shall  be 
so  happy  ! '  said  she.  '  Come  soon  and  meet 
me ! '  Not  a  tear  was  shed  at  that  death-bed. 
And  no  doubt  the  angels  in  heaven  rejoiced  that 
another  member  was  added  to  their  company. 
God  help  us  all  to  be  like  her." 

The  tears  coursed  down  the  cheeks  of  the 
strong  man,  as  he  thought  of  his  angel  sister, 


88  MADAME  LE  ITEVBE. 

and  all  were  silent  for  a  few  moments,  when  he 
continued  : 

"  Of  Aunt  Nannie  little  is  known.  It  is 
thought,  from  what  she  says  of  herself,  that  she 
ran  away  from  a  bad  husband,  in  some  distant 
country,  and  that  distress  and  poverty  have  made 
her  crazy  enough  to  forget  her  troubles,  and  be 
happy  where  she  is.  This  seems  to  me  a  kindness 
of  Providence,  and  I  am  glad  that  she  is  as  she  is, 
under  the  circumstances. 

"  Of  the  woman  with  whom  M.  De  Lacy  was  at 
prayer  the  day  you  visited  the  house,  the  bright 
little  boy,  who  comes  for  needle-work  for  his 
mother,  will  tell  you ;  for  she  was  his  grand- 
mother. That  poor  creature,  Madame  Le  Fievre, 
who  is  so  gruff  with  every  one,  was  left  a  widow, 
residing  in  a  country  villa,  in  the  midst  of  ease 
and  plenty.  She  was  avaricious.  Money-getting 
seemed  her  end  and  aim  ;  her  whole  study  being 
to  increase  her  store  of  worldly  goods.  For  years 
after  her  husband's  death,  she  was  not  known  to 
give  the  least  article  to  relieve  the  wants  of  the 
poor.  But  a  heavy  judgment  awaited  her.  She 
had  sent  away  the  last  domestic,  and  was  alone  in 


AVARICE  DEFEATED.  89 

the  house.  It  was  a  clear  summer  day,  and  she 
picked  up  some  sticks  as  she  walked  through  her 
garden,  and  kindled  a  little  fire  to  prepare  her 
solitary  repast.  In  a  few  moments  her  dwelling 
was  enveloped  in  flames ;  and  before  assistance 
could  be  rendered  she  had  lost  her  all.  The 
money  she  had  dared  to  trust  in  business  soon 
failed,  and  she  saw  herself  reduced  to  penury. 
For  years  she  has  lived  on,  earning  a  scanty  pit- 
tance, till  ill  health  has,  at  length,  driven  her  to 
the  house  provided  for  her  sisters  in  poverty.  "We 
hope  that  time  will  soften  her  disposition,  and  help 
her  discover  her  true  character," 

"  I  must  say  that  I  am  quite  interested  in  this 
old  ladies'  concern,"  said  M.  Le  Gendre.  "Is 
there  anything  provided  for  old  gents  ?  " 

"  Nothing  particular ;  or  nothing  upon  this 
plan,  I  should  say,"  replied  the  deacon.  "I 
think  our  establishment  is  unique  in  its  kind  ;  it 
gives  the  inmates  a  comfortable  and  good  home, 
while  it  carefully  maintains  the  individuality  of 
each.  Talk  with  them,  and  you  will  find  each 
feels  herself  entirely  her  own  mistress.  M.  De 
Lacy  is  very  indulgent.  He  says  old  people  must 
8* 


90  PRAYER  ANSWERED. 

not  be  interfered  with,  nor  yet  deprived  of  any- 
thing to  which  they  have  been  accustomed.  The 
matron  was,  at  one  time,  much  annoyed  by  an  old 
lady's  smoking,  and  thought  to  coax  her  to  leave 
it  off.  'I  would  not,'  said  De  Lacy;  ''tis  more 
comfort  to  her  than  harm  to  any  one  else.  We 
will  break  up  every  bad  habit  in  the  young,  but 
not  trouble  the  old.' ': 

"I  like  the  plan,  deacon,"  exclaimed  M.  Le 
Gendre;  "and,  if  you  will  take  the  trouble  of 
starting  a  similar  establishment  for  males,  I  will 
furnish  means." 

"  Good  !  thank  God  !  "  said  the  deacon  ; .  "  my 
prayers  are  answered.  Such  a  thing  is  greatly 
needed,  and  you  will  yourself  derive  benefit  from 
so  worthy  an  enterprise." 

In  the  evening  a  small  music-box  came,  with  a 
note  from  De  Lacy,  directed  to  Mrs.  Abel.  The 
note  stated  that  the  indisposition  of  and  prepara- 
tion for  the  departure  of  his  cousin  for  America, 
would  occupy  him  for  some  days ;  after  which, 
he  hoped  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  M.  Le 
Gendre  and  Miss  Esther,  to  whom  he  sent  com- 
pliments. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

HOME   TRIALS. 

AMONG  the  few  persons,  selected  as  visitors  to 
Esther,  were  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tincum,  of  New 
York.  They  were  polite,  well-educated  people, 
and  she  became  quite  attached  to  the  lady ;  and, 
during  their  short  stay  in  Paris,  entertained  them 
with  great  hospitality. 

By  some  unaccountable  mismanagement  on  the 
part  of  Mr.  T.'s  agent,  he  found  himself  short  of 
funds,  and  M.  Le  Gendre  was  happy  to  accommo- 
date him.  They  left  with  promises  of  letter-writ- 
ing, payments,  and  every  demonstration  of  affec- 
tion. During  the  six  weeks  which  followed  their 
departure,  everything  went  smoothly  on.  M.  Le 
Gendre  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time  with  his 
daughter ;  she  administered  to  his  wants  bodily 
and  spiritually ;  and,  under  her  gentle  influence, 
he  became  calm,  and  comparatively  cheerful.  He 
instructed  her  in  mathematics,  geography,  and 


92  '    TRIMMING   FLOWERS. 

•?      • 

natural  science,  in  all  of  -which  she  made  slow,  but 
sure,  progress. 

Mrs.  Abel  managed  the  domestic  concerns 
admirably,  and  found  in  Esther  a  very  apt  and 
able  assistant.  Louise  manifested  much  good 
feeling  and  thankfulness  for  the  care  bestowed 
upon  her.  All  appeared  well  with  the  other 
domestics,  as  far  as  the  good  Avoman  could  see. 
Pierre  was  faithful,  and  she  felt  that  she  could 
confide  in  him.  Upon  Kate,  the  music-box  oper- 
ated almost  as  the  harp  of  David  upon  Saul ; 
when  in  a  tantrum,  't  was  sure  to  quiet  her.  On« 
day,  Esther  gave  her  permission  to  water  and 
pick  the  dead  leaves  from  her  plants. 

"What  are  you  doing,  child?"  cried  Louise, 
who  came  just  in  time  to  prevent  her  clipping  off 
the  roots  of  a  fine  passion-flower,  which  Esther 
highly  prized. 

"0,  I  shall  turn  it  upside-down;  that 's  the 
quickest  way  to  get  dead  leaves  off !  "  replied  she. 
"  See  what  I  have  in  this  box  !  "  and  she  showed 
her  a  large  box  filled  with  the  buds  of  the  flowers. 

"  Dear  Miss  Esther,  how  badly  she  will  feel ! 


A  MARRIAGE.  93 

How  could  she  have  set  you  about  such  work?" 
said  Louise,  mournfully. 

Kate  refused  to  give  up  the  scissors,  and  Mrs. 
Abel  came  in  just  in  time  to  prevent  Louise  hav- 
ing a  hearty  box  on  the  ear. 

The  deacon  made  them  his  daily  visits  as  usual, 
but  De  Lacy  came  not. 

Esther  would  have  been  glad  to  see  him,  but 
her  time  was  too  fully  occupied,  and  she  was  too 
little  acquainted  with  him  to  miss  his  company. 

The  more  the  deacon  and  Mrs.  Abel  saw  each 
other,  the  more  necessary  it  appeared  to  be  for 
them  to  see  each  other ;  and,  in  the  course  of  the 
summer,  Mr.  Day  discovered  that  a  woman  was 
very  necessary  for  a  man's  happiness,  and  that, 
with  such  an  one  as  Mrs.  Abel,  he  could  be  far 
more  useful. 

Mrs.  Abel  had  little  objection  to  matrimony, 
and  still  less  to  the  deacon,  whose  character  she 
had  learned  to  appreciate.  But  how  was  she  to 
leave  Esther?  That  would  not  do,  as  she  had 
promised  to  stay  with  her  as  long  as  she  lived. 

"  But,"  said  the  deacon,  "  when  you  made  that 
promise  you  did  not  know  the  influence  she  would 


94  VANITY   OF  RICHES. 

gain  over  her  father;  nor  could  you  anticipate 
so  rapid  a  maturity  on  her  part." 

A  few  weeks'  reflection,  together  with  the 
urgent  request  of  both  M.  Le  Gendre  and  his 
daughter,  decided  Mrs.  Abel ;  and  she  was  pri- 
vately married,  and  brought  the  deacon  to  her 
happy  home.  I  say  happy,  because  I  believe  that 
home  must  be  happy,  the  inmates  of  which  are 
employed  in  blessing  their  fellow-creatures. 

Esther  frequently  spoke  of  taking  lessons  in 
music ;  but  Mr.  Day,  who  was  anxious  to  bring 
about  a  closer  acquaintance  between  her  and  his 
friend,  De  Lacy,  proposed  her.  waiting  the  return 
of  the  latter  from  Germany,  whither  he  had  gone, 
for  a  short  time,  on  a  scientific  investigation. 

As  we  pass  the  splendid  mansions  of  the  rich, 
and  see  their  fine  carriages,  and  liveried  servants, 
we  are  apt  to  sigh  for  the  wealth  which  might 
bring  them  happiness  if  rightly  employed.  But, 
alas  !  how  little  do  we  know  of  the  splendid  mis- 
ery within !  There  are  fond  parents  bereft  of  all 
inheritors  but  one,  and  he  a  fool.  What  are 
those  lace  curtains,  and  costly  carpeting,  to  that 
mother  ?  Will  the  golden  cup,  from  which  her 


CURIOSITY.  95 

only  child  drinks,  reflect  light  to  his  dull  brain  ? 
She  groans  in  spirit,  as  she  looks  from  her  car- 
riage-windows, at  the  lively,  skilful,  peasant's 
child,  and  says,  "Happy  is  the  woman,  whom 
that  little  one  calls  mother !  "  But  she  never 
thinks  to  take  to  her  heart  some  needy  orphan, 
who  might  grow  up  to  bless  and  cheer  her  declin- 
ing days ;  and  so  she  drags  through  life,  a  rich 
lady,  whom  the  glorious  sun  of  charity  never 
warmed ;  for,  too  closely  wrapped  in  silks  and 
jewels,  he  may  not  enter  there,  but  is  reflected 
thence  to  some  such  persons  as  the  Le  Gendres. 

We  hear  them  spoken  of,  according  to  the  light 
of  the  individuals,  thus  : 

Mr.  Prang.  "  I  wish  we  could  get  something 
out  of  that  rich  old  fellow  that  lives  in  the  best 
house  I  ever  saw.  You  know  who  I  mean. 
What 's  his  name  1 " 

Mr.  Spathe.  "You  mean  Le  Gendre.  He's 
not  old,  but  rich  enough  and  stingy  enough,  I  tell 
you !  Why,  he  'd  no  more  lend  a  hand  to  help 
us  in  getting  up  this  procession,  than  he  'd  give 
us  his  money-bags." 


96  GOSSIP. 

Mr.  P.  "Do  you  know  how  lie  lives,  shut  up 
there  in  that  castle  of  a  place  ?  " 

Mr.  S.  "My  wife  says,  that  he  keeps  him- 
self in  his  chamber  nearly  all  the  time ;  that  that 
poor  child  of  his  is  never  allowed  to  go  anywhere, 
or  see  anybody ;  and  that  he  has  a  woman  to 
watch  her,  and  take  care  of  her.  He  's  so  stingy, 
that  he  allows  no  company,  if  he  can  help  it,  to 
avoid  the  expense." 

Mr.  P.  "How,  then,  came  he  to  give  that 
large  party,  a  while  ago  ?  " 

Mr.  S.  "  They  say  he  did  that  to  show  folks 
how  rich  he  is,  and  that  the  cost  of  it  makes  him 
so  careful  now.  Why,  I  really  believe  they  live 
as  meanly  as  they  can ;  and,  as  to  society,  what 
little  they  do  have  seems  to  be  the  lowest  class  of 
people,  for  they  go  there  sometimes,  and  remain 
for  hours." 

Mr.  P.  "Well,  if  that  isn't  odd  enough! 
His  money  won't  do  much  good  in  the  world, 
while  he  lives,  I  'm  sure.  I  wish  I  had  it ;  I  'd 
circulate  it." 

Dr.  Jordan.     "  My  good  woman,  what  kind 


A   STARTLING   CHANGE.  97 

friend  has  Providence  raised  up  for  you,  since  I 
was  here  1  You  really  look  quite  comfortable." 

Mrs.  Bugard.  "A  kind  friendj  indeed,  sir; 
an  angel  I  may  say,  —  Miss  Le  Gendre.  She  has 
been  to  see  me,  and  done  several  things  for  me  with 
her  own  dear  hands.  I  never  thought  that  such 
a  lady  could  take  hold  and  work ;  and,  then,  she 
has  sent  me  everything,  and  a  nice  young  woman 
to  wait  upon  me.  God  bless  her  !  I  have  been 
BO  thankful,  and  prayed,  if  it  be  the  Lord's  will, 
that  I  may  live  to  do  for  others  as  I  have  been 
done  by." 

Dr.  J.  "They  are  good  people,  indeed.  I  al- 
ways hear  from  them  among  the  poor  whom  I 
visit.  I  believe  they  spend  their  time  and  fortune 
for  the  needy  and  destitute ;  and  they  are  such 
pious  people,  sincere  Christians.  God  be  praised 
that  a  few  good  still  live  among  the  wicked  !  " 

One  morning,  Esther  observed  that  her  father 
ate  nothing  at  breakfast,  and  was  unusually  quiet. 
She  had  once  or  twice  spoken  to  him,  and  received 
no  answer.  But,  as  that  was  often  the  case,  she 
thought  nothing  of  it  at  first.  After  a  while,  his 
countenance  changed,  and  she  became  alarmed. 
9  G 


98  FILIAL   FIDELITY. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Day  were  summoned,  who  saw  that 
he  was  in  a  fit.  Medical  assistance  was  called  in, 
and,  upon  examination,  it  was  found  that  his  heart 
was  much  diseased. 

Esther  was  wholly  unprepared  for  sickness,  her 
heart  being  filled  with  pleasant  schemes,  and  joy- 
ful anticipations.  She  had  seen  her  father  com- 
paratively happy,  and  was  looking  forward  to  the 
time  when  his  affections  and  hopes  should  extend 
beyond  this  mundane  sphere,  and  he,  enjoying 
"  that  peace  which  the  world  cannot  give,"  should 
partake  of  the  pleasures  of  herself  and  friends. 

A  protracted  and  distressing  illness  followed 
this  first  attack.  "Week  after  week  did  the  affec- 
tionate child  watch  at  the  bed-side  of  her  only 
parent,  rendered  doubly  dear  by  suffering  and 
dependence  on  her  sympathies.  If  she  turned 
away,  his  eyes  followed  her ;  if  out  of  sight,  he 
would  ask  for  her ;  did  she  retire  to  her  own  room, 
for  prayer  and  a  little  sleep,  he  could  not  rest. 

Mrs.  Day  was  anxious  for  the  health  of  her 
darling,  and  would  x>ften  try  to  get' her  away  from 
the  sick-chamber.  M.  De  Lacy  frequently  called, 
and  made  himself  very  useful.  Esther  found  in 


THE  MTJS10  LESSONS.  99 

him  a  kind  and  tender  brother,  and  the  more  she 
saw  of  him,  the  more  did  she  liken  him  to  her 
good  minister  in  the  country.  Though  this  long 
sickness  brought  many  duties,  and  occupied  much 
time  and  thought,  in  this  limited  circle  of  philan 
thropists,  yet  the  charities  failed  not ;  the  poor 
and  sick  were  not  neglected,  and  none  came  to  the 
house  unnoticed  and  uncared  for. 

"  There  is  time  enough  to  do  all  that  is  neces- 
sary to  be  done,"  Mr.  Day  would  say.  "  "We  will 
not  call  upon  strangers  for  that  which  we  can 
better  do  ourselves." 

Time  passed  rapidly  on,  and  M.  Le  Gendre's 
health  began  to  improve.  It  was  thought  that 
Esther  needed  recreation,  as  well  as  occupation,  to 
take  her  from  the  sick-chamber ;  and  she  com- 
menced her  music  under  the  instruction  of  M.  De 
Lacy.  Pupil  and  teacher  could  not  be  better 
satisfied  with  each  other.  He  had  never  given  a 
music  lesson  in  earnest  before ;  consequently,  she 
became  the  best  scholar  he  ever  had.  He  was  her 
first  master,  and,  of  course,  ske  never  knew  his 
equal.  0,  those  were  charming  lessons,  in  which 
soul  spoke  to  soul !  Music  was  not  alone  their 


100  SLAVERY. 

theme.  The  beautiful  in  nature ;  the  goodness 
and  wisdom  of  God,  the  glories  of  another  world, 
the  sympathies  of  human  hearts,  were  all  talked 
over. 

"  Can  you  give  me  any  particulars  of  De  Lacy's 
family?"  said  M.  Le  Gendre  to  Mr.  Day,  one 
morning,  after  Esther  had  left  the  room. 

"  They  are,  as  I  am  told,  of  the  moneyed  aris- 
tocracy in  one  of  the  Southern  States  of  America ; 
Virginia,  I  believe." 

"  And  does  he  intend  to  return  there  to  live  1 " 

"0,  no !  His  father  was  a  planter,  and  his 
mother  still  holds  slaves,  which  causes  him  much 
grief.  He  tried  all  he  could  to  persuade  his 
father  to  free  them,  his  cousin  told  me.  He 
abhors  the  system  of  slavery,  and  thinks  it  will 
bring  some  great  curse  upon  that,  so  called,  free 
country.  He  is  right.  It  is  a  shame  to  America 
that  she  holds  God's  free-born  creatures  in  bond- 
age. Why  do  not  the  high-minded  population  of 
the  United  States  raise  their  voices  against  a 

O 

government  which  tolerates  so  much  injustice  ?  " 
"They  say,  and  perhaps  they  think,  they  can 


MYSTERY.  101 

do  nothing,  at  present,  and  many  hope  that  the 
system  will  wear  out  of  itself." 

"  Never,  while  money  is  the  end  and  object  of 
man.  I  tell  you,  friend  Day,  they  can  help  it  if 
they  will.  Let  every  black  child,  born  in  the 
United  States,  be  a  free  citizen,  and  entitled  to  all 
the  privileges  of  the  whites,  then  will  a  few  years 
show  us  a  better  state  of  things.  You  little  know 
how  deeply  I  suffer,  when  I  think  of  the  bufferings 
and  scourgings  of  Africa's  poor  children."  There 
was  a  long  pause ;  then  he  continued,  "  I  wish  De 
Lacy  were  anything  but  a  planter's  son." 

"Why  so?  Is  he  not  good  in  every  sense  of 
the  word?" 

"Very,  very  good !  But  I  think  he  is  gain- 
ing on  Esther's  affections.  I  notice  that  she  is 
anxious  about  the  time  of  his  coming,  and  sad  if 
he  chances  not  to  come.  0,  my  child!  My 
Esther !  I  would  willingly  give  you  to  such  a 
man,  but  — "  but,  here  the  tears  choked  his 
utterance. 

"  STou  trouble  yourself  with  some  misgivings, 
my  friend.     De  Lacy  adores  your  child,  as  much 
as  a  consistent  Christian  can  adore  a  mortal  being; 
9* 


102  MYSTERY. 

but  he  has  never  lisped  his  love  to  her.  Let  me 
but  tell  him  that  you  approve,  and  all  will  be 
according  to  your  wishes.  France  will,  hence- 
forth, be  his  fatherland,  if  Esther  so  desires." 

"  Tell  him  what  you  will,  and  now  leave  me  to 
myself  awhile." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

VISIT  TO   AMERICA. 

THE  deacon  -was  overjoyed  to  talk  with  the 
young  man  upon  a  subject  so  dear  to  his  own 
heart.  De  Lacy,  in  his  quiet  way,  raised  his  eyes 
to  heaven,  and,  with  an  outpouring  of  gratitude, 
whispered  his  thanks,  and  prayed  that  he  might 
be  a  worthy  recipient  of  so  great  a  treasure. 
"Mr.  Day,"  said  he,  "I  am  overpowered.  I 
could  not,  dared  not,  expect  such  a  blessing." 

Mrs.  Day  related  all  that  had  passed  to  Esther ; 
she  was  astonished ;  the  idea  of  matrimony  had 
never  entered  her  head  ;  she  felt  that  she  was  to 
live  for  her  father.  De  Lacy  she  respected,  and 
his  company  was  dear  to  her,  but,  for  the  present, 
her  father  was  her  all. 

About  a  week  after  this  conversation,  Esther 
received  the  following  letter : 


104  A  LETTER. 

"MY  DEAR  ESTHER:  It  grieves  me  to  tell 
you  that  I  must  absent  myself  from  you  some 
time,  —  to  me  a  very  long  time,  however  short  it 
may  be. 

"A  letter  from  home  informs  me  that  my 
mother  is  dangerously  sick ;  her  business  de- 
ranged, and  the  plantation  managed  by  a  brutal 
overseer. 

"My  aunt  urges  my  immediate  return;  and, 
dear  friend,  I  must  go  where  duty  so  impera- 
tively calls.  0,  that  I  may  be  able  to  liberate  all 
the  slaves  on  our  plantation  !  This  is  my  urgent 
desire ;  but  if  I  do  this,  and  become  a  poor  man, 
comparatively,  will  your  father  change  his  senti- 
ments toward  me  1  I  know  that  he  is  generous 
and  noble  ;  yet  a  fear  lingers  in  my  breast.  I 
feel  that  it  would  seem  hard  to  him  to  give  his 
only  child  to  a  man  whose  character  would  be  his 
only  fortune. 

"  May  I  hope  that  you  will  yet  be  mine,  if  the 
Lord  will  ?  Give  me  this  assurance,  and  I  shall 
go  on  my  way  rejoicing ;  for  your  spirit  will  be 
ever  present  to  bless  and  cheer  me. 

"I  have  determined  to  go  immediately,  and 


THE  ANSWER.  105 

dare  not  see  you  again ;  I  could  not  bear  a  leave- 
taking. 

"My  best  remembrances  to  your  father;  tell 
him  how  grateful  I  am  for  all  his  kindness  towards 
me.  God  bless  you  both  ! 

"  Yours,  ever." 

To  this  letter  the  deacon  carried  a  verbal 
answer  to  De  Lacy,  expressive  of .  the  regrets  of 
all  the  family  that  they  should  not  see  him  as 
usual.  M.  Le  Gendre  desired  him  to  give  up  all 
his  slaves,  not  heeding  the  sacrifice  of  property. 
"Tell  him,"  said  he,  "that  Esther  will  have 
enough  for  both,  and  that  I  would  prefer  giving 
her  to  him  without  a  cent,  than  urging  her  to 
marry  a  prince  against  her  inclination." 

This  was  quite  satisfactory  to  De  Lacy,  who, 
with  a  thankful  and  hopeful  heart,  began  to 
make  preparations  for  his  departure ;  the  deacon 
promising  to  look  after  his  poor,  as  much  as  possi- 
ble, and  to  keep  him  well  informed  of  all  that  was 
going  on  among  them. 

When  winter  had  fairly  set  in,  some  of  the 
fashionables  pressed  their  calls  upon  Esther,  and 


106  PENSIVE  THOUGHTS. 

used  their  best  endeavors  to  draw  her  into  society, 
as  they  called  it ;  but  she  steadily  refused  their 
invitations.  After  a  while,  they  became  piqued, 
and  it  was  rumored  abroad  that  M.  Le  Gendre 
was  a  retired  Jew,  who  cared  for  no  one,  and  no 
one  cared  for  him. 

M.  Le  Gendre  was  still  very  feeble,  and  Esther 
often  low-spirited.  Music  and  books  seemed  to 
have  lost  their  charm  for  her.  She  prayed  for 
wisdom  from  on  high ;  she  felt,  she  knew,  that 
she  was  not  in  the  right  state  of  mind ;  there  was 
a  void  in  her  heart,  and  she  involuntarily  turned 
her  thoughts  to  America.  The  more  she  thought 
of  the  distant  land,  the  pleasanter  it  seemed  to 
her.  She  had  heard  it  spoken  of  as  a  country 
where  all  were  equal,  except  the  blacks  ;  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that,  if  she  and  her  father  were 
there,  with  their  great  property,  they  might  do 
much  good.  Then  she  would  be  nearer  to  De 
Lacy;  he  would  be  a  great  comfort  to  her 
father. 

Esther  was  often  tempted  to  speak  to  her 
father  about  America,  but  could  never  muster 
courage,  till  one  morning,  when  he  said  to  her: 


THE   PROPOSAL.  107 

"My  child,  what  do  you  think  I  have  been 
dreaming  about  1 " 

"  Going  to  America,"  she  answered. 

"True.  But  how  came  you  to  guess  so 
readily  1 " 

"  Because  I,  too,  have  dreamed,  and  made  the 
same  journey." 

"  Is 't  possible  !  And  do  you  think  you  would 
like  to  go  there  with  me  ?  " 

"  That  is,  of  all  things,  what  I  should  like  best 
to  do,  if  you  could  be  happy  there,  my  dear 
father,"  said  Esther,  exultingly. 

"It  seems  to  me,  Esther,  that  I  must  go  some- 
where ;  this  quiet  life  is  what  I  am  unused  to ; 
and,  perhaps,  a  sea  voyage  would  build  me  up 
again.  "We  could  go  to'  New  York,  Boston,  etc., 
see  what  there  is  to  be  seen,  and  come  back  and 
show  ourselves  to  the  deacon  and  his  wife,  and 
then  go  elsewhere,  if  we  like." 

"  0,  how  pleasant !  Since  you  have  told  me 
so  much  about  your  travels,  and  now  that  our 
friend  has  left  us,  I  feel  a  desire  to  see  the  new 
world,  of  which  so  much  is  said." 

"  De  Lacy  —  0,  Esther,  if  I  live  to  see  you 


108  THE   PREPARATIONS.' 

united  to  him,  I  shall  then  be  able  to  lay  down 
my  head  in  peace !  To  him  am  I  indebted  for  the 
trust  I  have  in  Heaven,  and  the  bright  hopes  of 
a  glorious  future.  Many,  many  years  have  I 
wandered  despairingly  about  the  earth,  blaming 
my  heavenly  Father  for  the  very  chastisements 
which  should  have  made  me  better.  Thank  God, 
that  I  now  see  the  error  of  my  ways  !  " 

"  Father,  dear  father,  how  my  heart  rejoices  to 
know  that  we  can  pray  together,  having  the  same 
trust,  and  the  same  faith !  " 

"Esther,  before  making  any  plans  for  a  sea 
voyage,  I  will  consult  a  physician,  then  confer 
with  the  deacon  and  his  wife,  who,  I  know,  will 
not  consent  to  taking  you  away.  Can  you,  —  are 
you  willing  to  sail  without  your  nurse  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  father ;  with  you,  I  am  willing  to  go 
anywhere,  be  anything,  live  anyhow !  We  will 
take  Louise,  —  she  is  a  jewel.  You  nevsr  saw 
such  a  change  as  has  come  over  her." 

"  I  thought  she  was  a  good  girl,  from  the  be- 
ginning." 

" I  thought  so,  too;  but,  father,  I  have  learned 
much  of  human  nature  in  the  few  short  months 


THE  LOANED    MONEY.  109 


that  I  have  lived  in  Paris.  I  see  that  we 
cannot  judge  of  people  by  appearances.  Louise 
is  good  now,  and  we  will  forget  what  she  has 
been." 

The  physician  was  consulted,  and  highly  ap- 
proved of  the  sea  voyage ;  said  that  it  would  do 
Esther  as  much  good  as  her  father. 

Mrs.  Day  wished  to  go,  too,  but  it  was  thought 
best  for  her  to  continue  her  manifold  duties  and 
charities  in  her  present  situation  of  housekeep- 
ing. 

"If  you  go  to  New  York,  you  will  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  Tincums."  said  the 
deacon. 

"0,  yes!"  replied  M.  Le  Gendre,  "and  of 
getting  back  the  money  I  loaned  him." 

"  Ha !  ha !  If  you  get  your  money  back,  I  'm 
mistaken  in  the  Tincums.  If  they  had  intended 
to  pay,  they  would  have  sent  it  long  ago  ;  there 
have  been  opportunities  enough." 

"  You  judge  harshly,"  said  Mrs.  Abel ;  "  they, 
or  at  least  Mrs.  Tincum,  seemed  very  honor- 
able. She  will  see  that  the  debt  is  paid,  I'm 
sure." 

10 


110  MATRIMONIAL  SUPPOSITIONS. 

"  And  you,  my  dear,  are  much  mistaken  ;  very 
likely  she  does  not  know  that  he  had  money  of  M. 
Le  Gendre.  It  is  not  in  America  as  here  ;  there 
the  women  seldom  know  anything  of  their  hus- 
bands' business.  Women  often  marry  on  supposi- 
tions, so  to  say ;  they  suppose  a  young  man  to  be 
rich,  because  he  has  a  fine  store,  or  dresses  hand- 
somely ;  and  they  suppose  it  would  be  nice  to  be 
married,  and  have  nothing  to  do  but  dress  pretty, 
and  rock  themselves  in  a  chair  all  day ;  then  they 
suppose  that  they  can  afford  to  live  in  good  style, 
just  like  some  opulent  neighbor.  The  husband 
catches  the  inspiration,  and  supposes  it  is  for  his 
credit  or  honor  to  keep  up  an  appearance,  and  that 
some  good  chance  will  come  for  him  to  make 
plenty  of  money.  So  he  goes  on ;  debts  accumu- 
late, and,  finally,  he  supposes  it  quite  necessary  to 
tell  his  wife  that  he  must  turn  bankrupt.  She  sup- 
poses so  too.  They  arrange  everything  very  satis- 
factorily to  all  parties  concerned  (except  sundry 
washerwomen,  bakers,  butchers,  etc.,  who  are  not 
easily  persuaded  that  bankruptcy  is  honorable), 
and  begin  the  world  anew.  Now,  it  strikes  me 
that  tiieee  good  Tincums  are  blessed  with  the 


INDIA-RUBBER  CONSCIENCE.  Ill 

India-rubber  conscience,  which  will  stretch  to 
accommodate  itself  to  circumstances.  We  shall 
see." 

Esther  applied  herself  diligently  to  her  English, 
and,  with  Mr.  Day's  assistance,  learned  rapidly. 
She  also  read  travels,  and,  as  often  as  her  father's 
strength  would  permit,  pursued  her  studies  with 
him. 

Thus  she  occupied  herself  till  within  a  short 
time  of  her  departure,  when  the  deacon  advised 
that  she  should  spend  a  few  weeks  in  looking 
about  her,  that  she  might  not,  in  a  foreign  coun- 
try, be  a  foreigner  to  her  own  city.  He  took  her 
to  all  public  places,  where  useful  knowledge  can 
be  obtained,  and  assisted  her  in  the  selection  and 
purchase  of  what  he  deemed  necessary  for  her 
comfort  during  her  absence. 

Ivpass  over  the  tears  and  prayers  of  old  ladies, 
poor  children  and  servants,  and  leave  the  deacon, 
his  wife,  M.  Le  Gendre,  and  Esther,  to  enjoy  their 
last  evening  pleasantly  together.  Monsieur  leaves 
his  papers,  etc.,  in  the  care  of  Mr.  Day,  and  takes 
with  him  as  much  as  will  enable  them  to  do  what- 
ever they  wish.  He  prefers  having  money  with 


112  THE  LAST  EVENING. 

him,  as  he  is  no  friend  to  business,  and  that  has 
always  been  his  way.  He  also  preferred  sailing 
in  a  brig ;  for  in  steamboats  there  was  too  much 
fashion ;  ships  were  too  large  ;  but  a  brig  was  his 
favorite. 


CHAPTER    X. 

DE  LACY'S   RETURN. 

M.  DE  LACY  found  his  mother  alive,  but  no 
hopes  were  entertained  of  her  recovery.  The 
plantation  was  in  a  sad  condition,  and  the  poor 
negroes  suffering  for  want  of  food  and  clothing. 

The  overseer  was  a  very  hrute,  devoid  of  feel- 
ing, and  bent  upon  getting  all  the  labor  he  could 
from  the  slaves,  that  he  might  turn  it  to  money 
on  his  own  account.  He  had  heard,  through  a 
female  servant  of  Sarah  De  Lacy,  that  her  cousin 
was  about  to  marry  a  wealthy  Jewish  heiress,  in 
Paris,  and  had  said  that  he  should  never  return  to 
America.  Mrs.  De  Lacy  was  a  feeble,  indolent 
woman,  the  daughter  of  a  planter  who  had  been 
educated  in  the  belief  that  negroes  were  stubborn, 
heartless  wretches,  moved  only  by  the  lash ;  and, 
if  ever  a  complaint  reached  her  ear,  she  satisfied 
herself  with  the  idea  that  her  husband  had  pam- 
pered and  spoiled  his  people,  and  that  nothing  but 
10*  H 


114  DREADFUL  DISCLOSURES. 

severity  -would  bring  them  to.  As  to  the  business 
matters,  she  knew  nothing.  How  could  she  make 
calculations  ?  There  would  be  enough  for  her 
and  the  annual  remittances  her  son  was  to  receive. 
She  thought  things  did  not  go  on  as  well  as  when 
her  husband  lived ;  but  it  was  no  fault  of  hers  — 
a  woman  could  not  be  expected  to  manage  so  large 
a  plantation.  Immediately  after  the  interview 
with  his  mother,  De  Lacy  began  to  look  around. 
The  overseer  was  all  attention  and  politeness,  but 
the  poor  negroes  shuddered  and  trembled  as  he 
approached  them. 

"What  ails  that  poor  fellow's  face?"  said  De 
Lacy,  observing  an  old  negro  with  a  rag  tied  about 
his  head. 

"  He  has  been  fighting,  or  bitten  by  a  spider,  I 
suppose,  sir,"  was  the  careless  answer. 

"  An  old  man  like  him  fight  ?  "  ejaculated  the 
young  man. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  these  slaves  are  sad  fellows.  I  can 
do  nothing  with  them.  The  more  they  are  fed, 
and  the  better  they  are  treated,  the  worse  they 
behave." 

Just  then  an  old  woman  tottered  towards  them, 


A  SCENE   OF  HORROR.  115 

exclaiming,  "Young  master,  come  quickly,  — she 
will  die  !  she  will  die  !  " 

" Don't  heed  her,  sir,"  said  the  overseer;  " she 
has  been  crazy  for  the  last  two  years, — she  knows 
not  what  she  says." 

"  Come  and  see  ! "  screamed  she,  in  such  a 
piercing  tone  that  every  fibre  in  the  young  man's 
heart  quivered. 

And  he  did  go,  in  spite  of  the  persuasions  of  the 
overseer  to  the  contrary. 

"Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  he,  as  they  entered  a 
miserable  cabin,  "  what  means  this  blood  ?  " 

A  groan  led  him  to  the  further  side  of  the  cabin, 
where,  behind  a  pile  of  stone,  boards  and  other 
kind  of  rubbish,  lay  a  girl,  mangled  and  bruised 
in  the  most  horrible  manner.  He  asked  no  ques- 
tions. The  sight  of  that  poor  mother's  face  told 
the  tale  but  too  well ;  and  he  saw,  in  an  instant, 
that  she  had  tried  to  make  a  barrier  to  screen  her 
child  from  further  persecution.  Turning  round, 
with  a  commanding  voice  he  ordered  the  overseer 
to  remove  the  rubbish,  whilst  the  mother  went  to 
call  help.  A  litter  was  soon  prepared,  and  the 
poor  girl  taken  to  the  house.  After  dressing  her 


116  FURTHER  DISCLOSURES, 

wounds,  and  leaving  her  in  the  care  of  her  mother, 
he  called  the  overseer,  and  inquired  after  those 
slaves  whom  he  remembered.  Some  were  dead, 
others  sold  ;  and  but  few  of  those  belonging  to  the 
estate  when  he  left  home,  remained.  These  he 
wished  to  have  brought  together  the  next  morn- 
ing, immediately  after  breakfast.  Heart-sick,  he 
sought  his  mother's  room,  and  found  her  in  a 
quiet  sleep,  two  black  women,  apparently  much 
exhausted,  standing  by  the  bedside. 

"  Sit  down,  both  of  you,  and  sleep,  and  I  will 
watch  to-night,"  said  De  Lacy.  But  neither 
moved. 

"  Why  do  you  not  go  ?  "  continued  he. 

"Mistress  will  have  us  flogged,  if  we  move," 
said  one. 

"If  we  could  but  get  a  morsel  to  eat,"  sighed 
the  other,  placing  her  hand  upon  her  stomach. 

De  Lacy  rang  the  bell.  A  tall  and  handsomely 
dressed  mulattress  answered  the  summons,  with  a 
polite  and  smiling  "If  you  please,  sir." 

"Bring  some  refreshments  for  these  women; 
and  spread  a  mattress  on  the  floor,  that  they  may 
rest." 


TREACHERY.  117 

A  scowl  and  threatening  look  was  her  answer, 
as  she  tossed  up  her  head  and  flaunted  out  of  the 
room.  Some  moments  elapsed,  and  no  person 
appeared. 

"  Who  is  the  woman  who  just  left  the  room  1 " 
inquired  he. 

"Mistress  Aborne,  the  wife  of  our  overseer," 
answered  the  hungry  women.  "  She  means  to 
starve  us." 

"  That  she  shall  not,"  said  he,  ringing  the  hell 
violently.  Another  strange  face  appeared.  "Tell 
your  Mistress  Aborne  to  do  as  I  bade  her,"  said 
De  Lacy  ;  —  and  »a  waiter  with  food,  and  a  mat- 
tress were  soon  brought  in.  The  women  ate 
almost  ravenously,  and  were  soon  in  a  profound 
sleep. 

Mrs.  De  Lacy  opened  her  eyes  and  shut  them 
several  times,  shuddering,  as  she  looked  upon  her 
son. 

"Mother,  dear  mother!"  said  he.  affection- 
ately ;  "  don't  you  know  your  son,  your  Louis  1 " 

"Is  it  you?  —  I  thought  it  was  your  father's 
spirit.  Come  nearer,  that  I  may  feel  you." 

He  bent  over  her  head  and  kissed  her. 


118  THE  SICK-CHAMBER. 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  to  me  before  ?  I  have 
written  to  you  so  many,  many  times,  to  come 
home." 

"I  have  all  your  letters,  and  there  is  not  a 
word  about  your  desiring  my  return,"  said  her 
son. 

"  My  child,  I  have  begged  you  to  come  to  me, 
with  all  the  fondness  of  a  mother's  heart." 

"As  soon  as  I  knew  that  you  wished  for  me,  I 
came." 

"  Sarah  said  that  you  were  to  be  married  to  a 
Jewess,  and  never  intended  to  come  home." 

"Wicked  woman  !  "  exclaimed  he. 

"Yes,  I  have  been  wicked!"  murmured  the 
mother. 

"I  meant  Sarah,"  said  he,  pressing  her  hand. 

"You  never  loved  her,  Louis.  I  am  glad, 
now,  that  you  did  not."  And  she  fell  asleep 
again. 

Hour  after  hour  rolled  on,  and  she  waked  not. 
The  doctor  came,  and  said  she  was  in  a  lethargy, 
and  might  never  wake  again. 

The  night  lamp  burned  dimly,  throwing  dark 
shadows  on  the  walls.  Hardly  a  breath  escaped 


SUDDEN   DEATH.  119 

the  weary  blacks.  But  the  heavy  breathing  of 
his  mother,  and  the  loud  ticking  of  the  entry- 
clock,  at  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight,  brought 
the  spirit  of  his  father,  and  a  host  of  slaves  before 
him.  The  former  whispered,  pointing  to  the 
slaves,  "Be  free."  At  this  instant  the  death- 
rattle  caused  him  to  spring  upon  his  feet.  He 
had  been  lost  a  moment  in  slumber,  and  his 
mother  was  no  more. 

With  sad  and  bursting  heart  he  closed  her  eyes, 
and  went  in  search  of  the  overseer's  wife,  for  he 
wished  not  to  disturb  the  tired  women  in  his 
mother's  chamber.  But  neither  she  nor  the  over- 
seer were  to  be  found ;  so  he  awoke  the  women, 
who  followed  his  direction  in  laying  out  the  dead. 
And  he  retired  to  his  lone  chamber,  and  the  sanc- 
tity of  his  own  heart. 

Next  morning,  neither  the  overseer  nor  his 
wife  were  on  the  premises ;  and  a  package  of 
jewelry,  plate,  etc.,  was  picked  up  in  the  front 
hall,  from  which  it  appeared  that  they  had  robbed 
the  house,  and  left  in  the  night. 

Sarah  and  her  aunt  came  to  arrange  for  the 
funeral,  and  De  Lacy  informed  the  slaves  through 


120  THE  BURIAL. 

the  women,  that  no  work  was  to  be  done,  until 
after  his  mother  was  buried. 

"  Let 's  go  north.  I  say,  Jim,  now 's  the  time. 
Young  Masse  so  taken  up  wid  de  mudder,  he  no 
miss  us.  Oberseer  gone,  —  hope  de  debbel  git 
him!" 

"I;se  feer'd  oberseer  lick  us,  and  sell  us. 
Better  stay,  Jim,  —  may  be  we  get  freedom  and 
money  too.  He  mus  be  good,  he  gib  Carrie  sich 
good  supper,  and  let  'm  sleep." 

"Now  listen  to  me,  boys,"  said  the  old  man, 
whose  eye  was  bandaged;  "if  young  Masse  is 
like  his  father,  we  shall  have  no  more  suffering. 
I  remember  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  and  how 
kind  he  was  to  all  of  us ;  —  never  spoke  a  hard 
word,  and  used  to  coax  his  mother  not  to  scold 
my  gal.  There  was  no  flogging  then,  and  we  all 
worked,  for  we  knew  we  'd  get  pay  for  it.  I  had 
the  best  cabin  of  any  nigger  in  Virginny,  and 
was  the  happiest,  too,  for  I  loved  Massa,  and  God 
was  good  to  us  all." 

We  leave  De  Lacy  to  learn  that  his  mother's 
letters  had  been  intercepted,  and  altered  to  suit 
the  overseer;  that  a  large  amount  of  property 


THE   OVERTURN.  121 

had  been  squandered,  or  stolen;  slaves  bought 
and  sold  —  some  beaten  to  death;  the  poor  old 
man's  eye  almost  put  out  by  a  blow  from 
Aborne's  fist,  and  cruelties  committed  which 
make  us  shudder  to  think  of;  and  go  back  to 

Paris. 

11 


CHAPTER    XI. 

REVERSES   OF   FORTUNE. 

"  BUT.  my  dear  sir,  can't  something  be  done  to 
save  at  least  a  part  of  the  property  ?  " 

"  No,  wife,  I  tell  you  no.  It 's  no  use  to  weep 
and  lament;  we  must  give  it  up." 

"If  it  were  ours,  I  could  bear  the  loss ;  but  if 
they  live  to  come  home  penniless " 

"  Do  not  murmur.  God  is  just.  We  are  near- 
sighted, stubborn  mortals,  unwilling  to  submit  to 
his  providence.  Come,  take  courage  :  —  more 
depends  on  you  than  you  are  aware  of.  Try  to 
make  friends  with  the  old  man.  He  is  sick ;  let 
him  see  that  you  care  for  him,  and  who  knows 
but  that  you  may  influence  his  hard  heart  to 
give  up  a  trifle,  should  our  friends  yet  live  to 
need  it  ?  " 

"They  do  live,  I  know  they  live,"  said  Mrs. 
Day.  "I  cannot  give  up  Esther.  I  ought  to 
have  gone  with  her." 


SAD   INTELLIGENCE.  123 

"How  unreasonable  you  are,  wife!  You  did 
what  you  did  for  the  best.  Nay,  don't  grieve 
so.  I  am  going  now  to  the  owners  of  the  brig  ; 
they  may  have  heard  something  about  her.  If 
you  can't  command  your  feelings,  remain  here  till 
I  return." 

In  about  two  hours  Mr.  Day  returned  to  his 
wife,  with  the  sad  intelligence  that  the  owners 
had  not  head  a  word  from  the  brig  since  the  first 
of  June,  and  had  given  her  up  for  lost.  They 
supposed  that  all  on  board  had  perished. 

Mrs.  Day  received  the  mournful  news  much 
better  than  the  deacon  anticipated.  She  appeared 
to  have  prepared  herself  for  the  worst,  and  to  be 
ready  for  action.  "Whatever  you  advise,  I  am 
willing  to  do,"  said  she,  calmly,  while  the  tears, 
which  for  several  days  had  been  pent  up,  began 
to  flow  freely. 

"You,  as  I  said  this  morning,"  replied  he, 
"had  better  keep  your  hold  in  the  house,  if  you 
can.  Monsieur  needs  a  housekeeper,  and  was 
pleased  with  our  arrangements.  Be  as  cheerful 
as  possible,  and  avoid  saying  anything  concerning 
his  brother,  as  it  only  irritates  him  ;  but  persuade 


124  THE  HISTORY. 

him  to  keep  the  old  servants.  I  wish  I  could 
relieve  you  of  Kate,  for  I  fear  she  will  get  his  ill 
will." 

"Mrs.  Grey  offered  to  take  her,  my  dear,  soon 
after  Esther  left,"  said  Mrs.  Day.  "  She  thinks 
she  can  keep  her  fully  employed,  and  that  is  all 
that  is  necessary." 

"  Perhaps  I  should  do  well  to  take  her  there  at 
once,  and  that  will  leave  one  thing  less  to  worry 
us,"  said  Mr.  Day. 

While  he  was  absent,  the  lawyer  whom  he  had 
consulted  came  to  get  all  the  particulars  of  the 
family,  which  were  substantially  as  follows  : 

Count  Le  Gendre,  of  German  origin,  came  to 
Paris,  and  married  an  only  child  of  a  wealthy 
recluse,  who  was  also  a  foreigner.  By  her  he 
had  two  sons  ;  the  eldest  a  rough,  hardy,  muscu- 
lar boy,  who  left  the  parental  roof  at  an  early 
age ;  and,  as  nothing  was  heard  from  him  for  a 
number  of  years,  his  parents  supposed  him  to  be 
dead.  The  other  son,  Esther's  father,  was  of  a 
mild  and  gentle  disposition,  the  comfort  and  only 
happiness  of  his  mother.  Being  ten  years  younger 
than  his  brother,  he  had  associated  little  with  him, 


THE  STRANGE  BROTHER.       125 

and  there  was  no  sympathy  between  them.  After 
the  death  of  his  parents,  from  whom  he  inherited 
several  millions,  he  travelled  through  Europe,  then 
visited  America,  where  he  married.  Nothing  is 
known  of  his  wife's  family  ;  and  his  only  child,  a 
girl  of  nineteen,  is  thought  to  have  perished  with 
him  in  the  brig  Anne  Marie,  bound  for  New 
York.  Two  months  after  they  sailed,  a  man 
called  upon  Mr.  Day,  and  inquired  for  M.  Le 
Gendre.  Upon  being  informed  that  Monsieur 
had  gone  to  America,  he  expressed  great  disap- 
pointment ;  and,  after  making  very  minute  inqui- 
ries as  to  his  family  affairs,  took  his  leave,  saying 
they  should  hear  from  him  again  soon. 

A  few  days  after,  an  officer  announced  to  Mr. 
Day  the  arrival  of  Eugene,  brother  of  Herman  Le 
Gendre,  and  claimed  all  papers  and  property  of 
the  former  for  said  Eugene.  He  stated  that  the 
father's  property  amounted  to  six  millions,  half 
of  which  belonged  to  Eugene  by  right  of  inherit- 
ance, and  that  if,  as  is  reported,  both  Herman  and 
his  child  are  dead,  he  is,  of  course,  the  only  lawful 
heir  to  the  whole. 

Mr.  Day  stated  that  the  actual  property  was 
11* 


126  THE  STRANGE   BROTHER. 

short  of  three  millions ;  and,  as  the  fact  of  Her- 
man's death  is  not  verified,  he  should  not  yield 
his  right  of  guardianship  -without  further  legal 
advice. 

Just  after  this  meeting,  the  conversation  be- 
tween the  deacon  and  his  wife,  related  above,  took 
place. 

Meanwhile,  Eugene  Le  Gendre  resolved  to  take 
up  his  abode  in  Herman's  house,  and  seemed  de- 
termined to  carry  his  point.  In  a  conversation 
with  the  deacon,  he  informed  him  that  he  had 
been  induced  to  join  a  company  of  dragoons,  who 
were  going  East;  that  he  had  fought  bravely, 
and  was  taken  prisoner,  and  had  been  many  years 
a  slave  in  Turkey,  from  whence  he  escaped  by  the 
assistance  of  a  woman.  After  many  struggles  and 
much  difficulty,  he  succeeded  in  reaching  Ger- 
many, where  he  had  been  again  detained  by  ill 
health  and  poverty ;  that  he  had  been  furnished 
with  money  to  return  to  Paris  by  an  American 
student,  who  had  treated  him  with  much  kindness. 
The  student  had  never  given  his  name.  He  said 
that  if  Herman  was  alive,  he  should  still  claim  the 
property,  which  was  his  by  right,  for  his  brother 


A  NEW  MASTER.  127 

must  have  lived  well  to  spend  so  much,  whilst  he 
had  been  suffering  for  want  of  food  and  raiment. 

"But  is  there  not  enough  for  both  of  you,  in 
case  my  friend  returns  ?  "  said  Mr.  Day. 

"I  think  not,"  replied  Eugene.  "He  may 
consider  himself  well  off  if  I  do  not  demand  in- 
terest for  the  use  of  my  property  for  so  long  a 
time.  But  you  need  not  fear  for  yourself,  —  I 
shall  need  some  one  to  manage  my  business,  and 
you  seem  to  be  just  the  man.  I  like  the  arrange- 
ments here,  and  will  only  step  into  Herman's 
shoes." 

Mrs.  Day  found  it  no  easy  task  to  wear  a  cheer- 
ful face  with  a  sad  heart. 

The  new  master  was  imperious  and  fault-find- 
ing, and  the  once  happy  home  became  the  seat  of 
disquiet  and  agitation.  At  times  both  the  deacon 
and  his  wife  were  almost  discouraged,  and  thought 
to  leave ;  —  but  a  hope  lingered  that  their  friends 
still  lived,  and  that  by  patience  and  continuance 
in  well-doing,  they  could  yet  serve  them. 

Not  a  word  was  heard  from  De  Lacy.  What 
could  it  mean  ?  Letter  after  letter  had  been  sent, 
—  why  no  answer  ? 


128  MISGIVINGS. 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  deacon,  one  evening,  as 
they  were  sitting  together,  "we  were  too  pre- 
sumptuous, too  earthly-minded,  and  thought  only 
of  present  happiness,  and  God  will  punish  us  by 
removing  our  idols." 

"I  cannot  think  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Day.  "I 
believe  that  we  did  right  to  enjoy  what  our  heav- 
enly Father  gave  us  for  that  purpose.  If  we  live 
only  in  anticipation,  there  will  be  little  comfort  in 
this  world.  Do  you  think  Esther  was  wrong  in 
being  so  devoted  to  her  earthly  duties,  and  so 
happy  in  them  ?  " 

"By  no  means.  The  thought  occurred  to  me, 
that  you  and  I  had  not  been  watchful  enough 
over  ourselves ;  —  that  we  were  not  sufficiently 
weaned  from  the  world.  In  short,  my  dear  wife, 
our  hopes  were  here." 

"  And  so  are  mine  now,  my  dear  husband.  I 
hope  to  see  Esther  again.  I  always  felt,  and  feel 
now,  that  God  gives  us  many  things  for  our  com- 
fort and  pleasure.  I  have  enjoyed  much,  and.  as 
that  dear  child  used  to  say,  lived  long  in  a  short 
time.  Deacon,  you  should  have  seen  her  in  her 
beautiful  white  dress,  kneeling  at  her  morning 


PLEASING   RETROSPECT.  129 

devotions.  Many  a  time  have  I  stood  and  watched 
her,  and  joined  in  all  her  thoughts  and  prayers,  as 
if  she  had  been  an  angel  leading  me  to  heaven. 
She  was  so  sweet-tempered,  so  good,  who  could 
help  loving  her?  Don't  call  her  my  idol,  — she 
was  my  good  spirit.  Thank  God  that  we  were 
happy  with  her,  and  that  she  loved  us  so  much." 

"  You  are  right,  my  dear  wife ;  God  placed  us 
together  to  aid  each  other,  and  we  did  it;  and 
while  we  thank  Him  for  the  past,  let  us  be  willing 
to  accept  the  present,  and  be  brave  for  the  future, 
come  what  will." 

"  0,  deacon,  that  sounds  like  yourself,  before 
you  were  desponding !  Now  tell  me  what  has 
happened  to-day.  I  feel  that  something  troubles 
you  more  than  usual." 

"  I  hate  to  give  you  another  pang.  Why  need 
you  question  me  1 " 

"I  can  bear  the  whole  better  than  a  part.  Tell 
me,  what  has  happened  1 " 

"  In  short,  then,  Marie  must  leave  the  house 
't  is  not  safe  for  her  to  be  here.     And  how  to  get 
her  away  without  incurring  the  displeasure  of  that 

I 


130  GLOOMY   PROSPECT. 

brute,  Eugene,  who  is  not  worthy  the  name  of  Le 
Gendre,  I  do  not  know." . 

"  A  new  trouble,  indeed,  deacon  ;  and  one  that 
falls  on  us.  What  can  we  do  ?  " 

"  I  had  concluded  ?t  was  best  to  keep  a  good 
look-out,  and  wait  for  some " 

Just  then  the  noise  of  a  person  falling  down 
stairs,  caused  both  the  deacon  and  his  wife  to 
epring  to  their  feet. 

"Madam!"  cried  Charlie,  "Marie  has  fallen 
and  broken  her  leg,  I  fear  !  " 

"  Place  her  in  my  bed ;  — poor  girl !  I  will 
take  good  care  of  her  myself." 

"How  inscrutable  are  the  ways  of  Providence ! " 
ejaculated  Mr.  Day. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

ESTHER   IN   ADVERSITY. 

"  SUMMER,  with  her  sunny  face,  and  perfumed 
breath,  has  gayly  nodded  her  head  in  adieu  to  us, 
as  she  passed  on  to  fairer  skies  and  greener  fields, 
bearing  with  her  the  sweet  songsters  and  tinted 
flowers,  and  fast  in  her  footsteps  comes  her  sister 
Autumn,  with  her  '  horn  of  plenty,'  scattering 
blessings  o'er  the  land,  and  clothing  the  trees,  by 
a  touch  of  her  magic  wand,  in  their  gayest  attire, 
in  honor  of  her  arrival.  The  tiny  seed  which  the 
husbandman  planted  in  the  spring-time,  has 
swelled  and  budded  and  blossomed,  and  is  now 
laden  with  fruit.  The  red  harvest  moon,  from 
her  home  on  high,  smiles  on  the  fruitful  earth, 
and,  peeping  through  the  crevices  of  the  well-filled 
barns,  throws  a  deeper  tinge  on  the  golden 
sheaves,  and  bursting  hay-stacks.  The  harvest 
has  come !  the  merry  harvest  time,  when  he 
vrho  sowed  in  fruitful  soil  shall  reap  in  abundance ; 


132  HAKVEST   TIME. 

the  time  so  anxiously  looked  for,  and  warmly 
welcomed,  by  the  farmers  throughout  our  land. 
May  God  bless  and  reward  them  for  their  honest 
labors  !  Prosperity  smiles  not  always  on  their 
toil,  and  their  lot  is  ofttimes  hard.  Some  may 
have  sowed  their  seed  in  rocky  and  unfruitful 
places ;  others,  for  want  of  proper  attention,  have 
left  the  yet  tender  buds  to  droop  and  die,  and 
now,  as  they  see  their  neighbors,  who  sowed  their 
seed  in  good  soil,  and  nourished  it  with  tender 
care,  gathering  in  their  bountiful  harvest,  they 
gaze  sadly  on  the  barren  earth,  and  curse  fickle 
Fortune  for  their  ill-luck.  Why  should  they 
ascribe  their  adversity  to  Fortune  ?  "Know  they 
not  they  are  but  reaping  their  reward  ?  '  As  ye 
sow,  so  shall  ye  reap,'  saith  the  Scriptures. 

"What  presents  a  more  charming  picture  than 
the  industrious  habitants  of  some  quiet  little  vil- 
lage, gathering  in  their  golden  treasures?  See 
the  honest  reaper  go  out  into  the  field,  with  his 
'gleaming  steel,'  followed  by  troops  of  little 
laughing  gleaners.  How  swells  his  heart  in  grati- 
tude, as  he  gazes  on  the  waving  grain,  and  vine- 
yards swelled  to  bursting,  —  proofs  of  his  labor ! 


EDUCATED   POVERTY.  133 

How  fervent  the  praise  that  ascends  to  his  Father's 
throne,  for  these  garnered  stores  that  mother 
Earth  has  so  plentifully  yielded  him  ! 

'  Then  glory  to  the  steel 

That  shines  in  the  reaper's  hand, 
And  thanks  to  God,  who  has  blessed  the  sod, 
And  crowns  the  harvest- land.' 

"  Thus,  too,  will  He  bless  us,  if,  in  the  spring- 
time of  life,  we  sow  the  seed  of  virtue,  that,  when 
his  harvest-time  shall  come,  we  shall  be  gathered 
up  'mid  his  '  golden  sheaves,'  and  crowned  with 
life  immortal." 

a'Tis  very  prettily  written,"  said  Miss  G. 
"  Who  did  you  say  was  the  authoress  ?  " 

• :  A  charming  French  girl ;  so  genteel,  and  so 
polite,"  replied  Mr.  A.  "You  know  I  don't 
understand  foreigners  very  well,  and  I  could  n't 
make  out  just  what  she  wanted.  I  wish  you 
would  call  and  see  her.  I  believe  she  wishes  to 
give  lessons,  or  write  for  publication,  or  something 
to  get  money  by." 

"Then,  I  pity  her,  I'm  sure,"  said  Miss  G. 
12 


134  DARK   ADVERSITY. 

"The  city  has  a  surplus  of  teachers;  and  as 
to  French  writings,  they  would  not  be  well  re- 
ceived here  in  Boston.  'T  is  true  that  many 
people  profess  to  study,  but  few,  I  believe,  can 
read  French  with  sufficient  ease  to  make  a  pleas- 
ure of  it." 

"  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  individual  is 
poor,  and  I  do  wish  you  would  try  to  see  her/' 
continued  Mr.  A.  "If  she  can  sew  or  crochet, 
my  wife  will  give  her  work.  Here  is  a  dollar,  in 
case  she  is  in  want ;  that  pretty  face  has  some- 
thing so  expressive  in  it  that  I  am  charmed  by  it. 
I  believe  I  shall  dream  of  her." 

"If  I  were  a  beggar,"  said  Miss  G.,  laughing, 
"  I  would  find  some  pretty-faced  girl  to  touch 
your  heart  for  me,  that  I  might  finger  your 
purse." 

Miss  G.,  who  had  long  been  known  to  the  poor 
in  her  neighborhood,  was  herself  obliged  to  live 
economically ;  not  that  she  was  really  poor,  but 
because  her  income  was  too  small  to  support  her 
without  carefully  counting  the  cost  of  everything. 
She  looked  at  the  dollar,  and  said  to  herself, 
"  If  that  girl  is  in  want,  she  ought  to  have  it ; 


SAD    REVERSES.  135 

little  as  it  is,  it  will  do  some  good.  0,  how  I  wish 
I  had  all  the  dollars  that  neighbor  C.  wastes,  how 
much  I  might  do !  'T  is  too  bad  to  be  nipped 
and  nipped,  all  the  time,  for  money.  No  matter 
if  it  is  cold  and  late  in  the  afternoon.  These  Oc- 
tober days  are  short  when  there  's  so  much  to  be 
done.  I '11  go." 

So  saying,  she  started,  and  was  soon  at  the  foot 
of  the  narrow  staircase  which  led  to  the  little 
room  occupied  by  the  foreigner.  She  tapped 
gently  at  the  door,  —  no  one  came.  Again,  —  no 
answer.  She  lifted  the  latch  and  entered.  The 
instant  she  cast  her  eyes  around  the  room,  poverty 
and  destitution  stared  at  her  from  every  corner, 
and  the  little  stove,  without  fire,  gave  a  chill  to 
the  air  of  the  cold  room.  A  heavy  sigh  attracted 
her  to  the  bed,  where  lay  a  man,  apparently  in 
great  distress.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not ; 
he  made  a  sign  to  be  lifted  up,  and  she  raised  his 
head ;  he  looked  anxiously  around,  as  though 
something  were  missing. 

Presently,  a  young  woman  rushed  into  the 
room,  and,  running  to  the  bed-side,  exclaimed, 
"  Have  courage,  dear  father  !  God  has  raised  up 


186  A  NEW   FKIEND. 

a  friend  for  us  !  See  !  See  !  "  and  she  showed 
him  two  loaves  of  fresh  bread. 

At  sight  of  her  a  faint  smile  played  upon  his 
lips,  as  he  whispered  the  name,  "  Esther  !  " 

She  broke  the  bread,  and  fed  him,  before  she 
spoke  to  Miss  G.,  who  still  stood  near. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  father? "  asked 
the  latter,  in  French. 

"  His  heart  is  diseased,  and  now  he  is  suffering 
from  the  climate,  and  want  of  the  comforts  he  has 
always  known,"  replied  she,  evidently  pleased  to 
meet  with  one  who  understood  her  language. 

"I  came  to  see  you  about  your  writing.  A 
gentleman  sends  you  this  dollar.  Shall  I  stay 
with  your  father,  or  go  buy  what  you  wish  with 
it?"  said  Miss.G.,  in  her  usual  kind  manner. 

"  0,  you  are  very  good  !  A  dollar  !  I  want 
some  wood;  some  flannel  for  my  father;  some- 
thing to  «at !  So  many  things  !  What  can  I 
buy  ?  If  you  would  be  so  kind,  miss,  as  to  get 
me  some  wood  with  it,  God  will  provide  the  rest," 
added  she,  cheerfully. 

Miss  G.  went  out  with  a  heavy  heart.  Here 
was  a  case  of  real  suffering,  and  her  funds  were 


TIMELY   RELIEF.  137 

too  low  to  relieve  it.  Rich  people  there  were 
enough  in  Boston,  and  even  among  her  immediate 
acquaintances,  but  it  was  almost  hopeless  to  ask 
their  assistance.  Every  one  had  so  much  to  do 
for  the  poor,  that,  really,  they  never  could  look 
into  any  new  case.  Then,  again,  they  have  so 
many  expenses,  they  can  hardly  afford  to  give 
away.  The  ladies  seldom  have  ready  money  on 
hand,  and  the  gentlemen  cannot  attend  to  such 
little  things ,  they  support  alms-houses  and  the 
like,  and  say,  let  poor  people  take  the  advantage 
of  such  institutions,  and  think  themselves  well 
off.  "  Yes,  Providence  will  provide,"  cogitated 
she,  and  away  she  went  to  secure  the  wood,  and 
find  a  man  to  put  it  in  that  evening. 

Before  nine  o'clock,  Esther  had  a  good  fire ; 
her  father  was  warmed  and  refreshed,  and,  with 
tears  of  gratitude,  she  knelt  down,  and  thanked 
Him,  who  had  thus  sent  a  light  to  cheer  her  in 
her  hour  of  darkness,  to  which  her  father  heartily 
responded,  "  Amen  !  " 

The  wood  and  little  candle  must  he  husbanded 
for  future  want;  so  Esther  retired  to  her  place 
of  rest,  on  the  outside  of  her  father's  bed,  though 
12* 


138  PAINFUL   SUSPICION. 

unable  to  undress  herself,  for  the  want  of  clothes 
to  cover  her  there.  Her  father  had  pawned  his 
•watch  for  their  scanty  articles  of  furniture,  and 
she  only  hoped  that,  at  some  future  time,  she 
should  be  able  to  earn  a  mattress  and  comforter, 
that  she  might  stretch  out  her  limbs,  and  have  one 
such  night's  repose  as  she  was  wont  to  have  in  her 
own  dear  white  chamber  in  Paris. 

"Esther,"  said  her  father,  "what  have  you 
done,  my  child,  to  get  that  nice  bread,  and  all 
this  pile  of  wood  1 " 

"I  met  a  woman,"  answered  she,  "whom  I 
supposed  to  be  French,  and  asked  her  if  she  could 
tell  me  where  to  go  for  work.  Just  then,  a  young 
man,  no  not  a  young  man,  but  a  man,  stopped 
where  we  stood  ;  he  looked  curiously  at  me,  then 
at  the  woman,  and  they  talked  about  me  so 
low  that  I  could  not  hear  what  they  said.  The 
woman  told  me,  if  I  would  go  with  them,  they 
would  give  me  what  I  wished ;  so  I  ran  along  as 
far  as  a  baker's  shop,  when  I  made  signs  that  I 
wanted  bread ;  the  man  gave  me  the  bread,  and 
told  me  to  meet  him  there  to-morrow  at  the  same 
tune,  and  that  he  would  give  me  as  much  bread 


FEAEFUL    FOREBODING.  139 

as  I  needed,  and  I  could  pay  him  for  it.  Now, 
is  n't  that  a  very  happy  circumstance  1  I  am  so 
thankful!" 

"  My  dear  Esther,  you  must  not  meet  that  man 
again,  unless  I  am  well  enough  to  go  with  you. 
God  be  praised  that  they  let  you  come  home 
safely  !  Did  not  they  ask  you  to  go  with  them?" 

"  0,  yes  !  I  am  to  go  with  them  to  get  the 
work  to  pay  for  the  bread !  The  woman  urged 
me  not  to  be  in  such  a  hurry,  to-night ;  but  I 
promised  to  go  again,  and  ran  as  fast  as  I  could, 
for  I  feared  I  should  lose  my  way." 

"  Must  it  be  so?  My  darling  run  in  the  face 
of  danger  for  a  morsel  of  bread  !  Heavens  !  what 
sins  have  I  committed  to  merit  such  a  punish- 
ment?" Here  the  poor  man  sobbed  audibly, 
quite  to  the  astonishment  of  Esther,  who  re- 
peated, 

"  My  father,  ought  we  not  to  be  thankful  that 
our  wants  are  so  well  supplied  ?  I  don't  under- 
stand your  trouble." 

As  soon  as  he  was  a  little  calm,  he  told  her  that 
wicked  men  and  women  often  enticed  innocent 
females  into  places  of  wickedness,  and  that  he 


140  LIGHT  IN   DARKNESS. 

doubted  not  that  it  was  the  intention  of  this  man 
and  woman  to  ruin  her. 

Poor  Esther  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  the 
danger  into  which  she  was  about  placing  herself, 
and  resolved  to  do  nothing  without  her  father's 
advice. 

"You  did  not  tell  me  about  the  wood,"  said 
he. 

"  The  lady  whom  I  found  in  the  room,  when  I 
came  back,  bought  it  with  the  dollar  a  gentleman 
gave  her  for  the  little  scrap  of  French  I  wrote 
after  we  took  that  walk  into  the  country  a  while 
ago,"  responded  Esther.  "0,  I  will  write  so 
much,  if  I  can  sell  it,  and  we  may  yet  be  happy, 
even  in  this  cold  country  !  "  , 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  check  your  hopes,  daughter, " 
said  he ;  "  but  I  think  the  dollar  was  a  gift,  rather 
than  the  price  of  the  writing.  The  gentleman 
told  me,  the  other  day,  that  it  was  almost  impossi- 
ble for  anybody  to  earn  a  living  in  such  a  way  ; 
and,  though  you  write  well  enough,  there  are 
thousands  who  write  better ;  beside,  that  pile  of 
wood  was  never  bought  and  brought  up  here  for 
that  money.  Our  blessing  of  to-day  was  in  the 


THOUGHTS   OF  HOME.  141 

coming  of  that  woman.  I  'm  sure  she  is  kind,  and 
will  feel  for  us.  Did  you  notice  how  much  her 
voice  sounded  like  Mrs.  Abel's, — Mrs.  Day's,  I 
mean?" 

"Indeed,  I  did!"  answered  Esther.  "Why 
don't  they  answer  your  letters  ?  The  deacon  is 
so  careful,  and  loves  us  so  much.  I  fear  some- 
thing terrible  has  happened  !  " 

"I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to  them,  and 
that  they  are  comfortably  enjoying  our  property, 
or  taking  care  of  it  for  us.  May  be  they  think  us 
dead." 

Here  Esther  dropped  asleep,  and  the  conversa- 
tion ceased. 

Next  morning,  M.  Le  Gendre  determined  to 
write  again  to  the  deacen,  and  also  to  M.  De  Lacy ; 
but  he  was  unable  to  go  into  a  store  and  write  as 
he  had  done  before,  and  Esther  had  used  their  last 
sheet  of  paper. 

They  ate  their  bread  with  thankfulness,  and 
Esther  set  about  clearing  up  their  room,  when 
Miss  G.  again  knocked  at  the  door.  With  a  smil- 
ing face  she  entered,  and  her  look  was,  to  both, 
like  that  of  their  absent  friend. 


142  GRATEFUL  AID. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you ! "  said  Esther.  "  I 
want  to  thank  you  for  getting  this  wood  for  us. 
It  is  so  pleasant  to  feel  warm.  We  never  felt 
such  chilling  winds  at  home  as  we  have  here."  • 

* '  Perhaps  you  never  knew  the  want  of  a  fire  at 
home,  my  dear,"  meekly  replied  Miss  G. 

"Never,  madam,  never,"  ejaculated  Monsieur. 

"I  came  this  morning  so  early,  to  see  if  you 
can  help  me  do  some  fine  needle- work.  We  are 
not  well  paid  for  it,  but  it  is  better  than  noth- 

ing." 

"Indeed,  I  am  very,  very  glad  to  do  anything; 
and  thank  God  for  all  his  mercies." 

"That  is  the  right  spirit,  miss,"  replied  Miss 
G.  "While  you  have  that  feeling,  you  will  be 
strong  enough  to  bear  whatever  comes.  When  we 
are  more  acquainted,  I  hope  you  will  tell  me  all 
about  yourself.  I  know  that  you  have  seen  better 
days." 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  wait  for  that,  madam," 
said  M.  Lc  Gendre.  "  I  can  tell  you  in  a  few 
brief  words,  that  we  were  wealthy  enough  to  have 
all  that  we  desired,  and  help  our  poor  brothers. 
We  left  home  for  a  sea  voyage,  —  were  ship- 


THE  SHIPWKECK,  143 

wrecked.  I  held  Esther  in  my  arms  during 
twenty-four  hours,  after  the  vessel  began  to  fill. 
What  became  of  us,  for  a  week  after  the  wreck, 
we  know  not.  When  I  awoke  to  consciousness,  I 
found  myself  in  a  fishing  vessel,  with  my  child 
lying  at  my  side.  At  first,  all  seemed  confused 
like  a  dream  ;  by  and  by  I  realized  our  situation, 
but  I  feared  for  nothing  but  Esther's  life ;  —  for 
that  I  prayed.  I  promised  to  be  patient  under 
all  other  afflictions.  God  heard  my  prayer,  and 
now  he  proves  my  faith.  I  am  afflicted,  but  not 
cast  down.  My  life  is  in  the  hands  of  my  Maker, 
and  I  shall  not  despair.  Blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord  !  We  were  landed,  —  strangers  in  a 
strange  land,  —  my  child  and  I.  The  money 
that  was  in  my  pocket-book,  my  watch,  studs, 
finger-rings,  buckles,  have  all  been  sold,  one  after 
another.  Now  there  is  nothing  left.  If  I  could 
but  get  an  answer  to  the  letters  I  have  sent  home, 
all  would  be  right." 

"But,  father,"  interrupted  Esther,  "can't  we 
obtain  the  money  the  TjnSums  owe  1 " 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,"  replied  he. 

"  What  Tincums  ?  "  asked  Miss  G, 


144  THE  FORLORN  HOPE. 

"  Of  New  York.  They  were  in  Paris,  — came 
to  our  house  repeatedly,"  answered  he;  "and 
when  about  to  leave,  borrowed  a  large  sum,  prom- 
ising to  write  to  us,  and  pay  on  their  return,  etc. ; 
but  we  have  never  heard  a  word  from  them." 

"I  presume  I  know  the  family,  and  if  you  will 
write,  I  can  see  that  the  letter  is  safely  delivered. 
And  here,"  added  she,  "is  the  payment  for  the 
work  I  leave  with  you.  Do  it  as  well  as  you  can, 
and  I  will  try  to  procure  more.  Now  I  must  go, 
for  I  have  many  things  to  do  to-day." 

As  Miss  G.  supposed,  the  Tincums  were  on  a 
visit  to  their  friends  in  Boston,  and  she  determined 
to  see  them  if  it  were  possible.  The  next  morning, 
at  about  ten,  she  called, — was  told  that  Mrs.  Tin- 
curn  was  not  up,  —  could  not  see  any  one  until 
twelve  o'clock.  At  twelve  Miss  G.  went  again. 
The  instant  she  cast  her  eyes  on  the  splendidly- 
dressed  lady,  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  '11  sound  her 
before  I  ask  her  to  pay  her  debts."  At  that  mo- 
ment, a  shop-boy  was  ushered  in  with  a  box  of 
opera  cloaks.  She  begged  Miss  G.  to  excuse  her 
till  she  should  examine  them.  One  was  too 
coerse  :  another  not  the  right  shade  for  her  com- 


FASHIONABLE   PRIDE.  145 

plexion ;  one  she  thought  she  could  take ;  she 
did  n't  quite  like  the  embroidery,  but  it  might  do 
to  wear  once  or  twice,  —  she  seldom  wore  any- 
thing so  common.  The  price  was  seventy-five 
dollars,  —  she  would  prefer  giving  more  if  she 
could  be  suited.  The  cloak  was  left,  and  the  boy 
dismissed,  with  orders  to  take  the  bill  to  her  hus- 
band at  his  office.  Miss  G.  inquired  if  she  were 
acquainted  with  the  Le  Gendres  of  Paris. 

"Indeed,  I  am,"  said  she.  "They  were  a 
father  and  daughter ;  charming  people,  and  im- 
mensely rich.  I  should  be  delighted  to  see 
them ! " 

"You  can  have  an  opportunity  now,  madam. 
They  are  in  Boston,  and  will  be  glad  to  meet 
you.  Here,  I  have  a  letter  from  Monsieur  to 
your  husband." 

"Is  it  possible!  I  have  not  heard  of  their 
arrival.  When,  and  how  did  they  come  ?  " 

"They  were  on  board  the  new  brig  Anna 
Marie,  which  was  lost  at  sea  a  few  months  since, 
and  are  here  in  a  state  of  destitution  and  suffering. 
They  live  in  Utica  street.  I  will  go  show  you 
where  they  live,  if  you  like." 

13  j 


146  HEARTLESSNES3. 

I 

"  Not  to-day.  I  have  a  bad  headache,  and  my 
nerves  are  very  weak.  I  don't  think  I  could  bear 
the  shock." 

"There  is  an  account  between  you  and  them. 
If  you  will  settle  that,  it  will  much  relieve  their 
pressing  wants." 

"0,  we  don't  owe  them  anything  !  " 

"  Did  not  your  husband  borrow  money  of  Mon- 
sieur Le  Gendre,  previous  to  his  return  to  Amer- 
ica?" 

"  I  don't  know  but  he  did.  Yes,  I  rather  think 
he  did  ;  but  that  haS  been  settled  long  ago." 

"You  are  mistaken,  my  dear  madam; — the 
debt  remains  unpaid,  and  I  beg  you,  in  the  name 
of  charity,  if  not  of  justice,  to  attend  to  it  imme- 
diately." 

"Why,  I  'm  sure  I  can  do  nothing  about  it ! 
My  husband  has  failed  since  we  came  home,  and 
I  supposed  that  everything  of  that  sort  was 
arranged." 

"  But,  excuse  me,  madam,  don't  you  feel  that 
you  owe  this  man  all  the  more,  now  that  he  is 
Buffering  for  the  very  money  you  spend  on  bau- 
bles 1  The  price  of  that  opera-cloak,  which  you 


OUTSIDE  SHOW.  147 

say  you  shall  -wear  only  once  or  twice,  would 
make  him  and  his  daughter  comfortable  for 
weeks." 

"We  don't  pay  for  our  goods  at  once.  My 
husband  lets  his  bills  stand  till  it  is  convenient 
to  settle.  I  'm  sure  he  would  be  willing  to  pay 
M.  Le  Gendre,  but  he  cannot  now,  —  he  can't 
afford  it,  absolutely.  We  are  poor  ourselves." 

A  servant  entered,  followed  by  an  Irish  wash- 
erwoman, who  exclaimed, 

"  Och,  ma'am,  and  sure  I  can't  be  for  comin' 
here  agin ;  it 's  the  pity  if  the  like  o'  ye  don't  pay 
for  the  wash.  An'  sure,  an'  my  husband  is  sick, 
and  the  childer  are  hungry,  an'  I  want  me  du." 

"Why  did  you  allow  that  brawling  woman  to 
come  into  th*e  parlor,  when  I  have  company?" 
said  she  to  the  domestic. 

"An'  you  don't  send  me  off  once  more,"  said 
the  woman,  seating  herself,  "for  I'll  stay  till 
I  'm  paid." 

"  Bring  me  the  vinaigrette — I  shall  faint,"  said 
Mrs.  Tincum. 

The  man  turned  away  with  a  sneer. 

Mrs.  Tincum  began  to  fumble  in  her  pocket. 


148  INDEPENDENCE. 

She  drew  forth  an  elegantly  embroidered  hand- 
kerchief, and  wiped  her  forehead.  The  bell  rang 
a^ain. 

"Don't  bring  anyone  else  here!"  screamed 
she,  drawing  an  elegant  purse  from  the  depths 
profound;  and,  taking  out  some  small  pieces  of 
silver,  she  offered  them  to  the  Irish  woman,  who 
refused  to  take  less  than  her  due.  After  some 
angry  words  on  both  sides,  the  five  dollars  were 
handed  her  ;  and  she  went  out  of  the  room, 
saying. 

"May  mischief  take  the  like  o'  ye,  and  never 
send  me  anuther  of  your  lace  rags  to  wash  !  — 
That 's  the  way  of  fine  ladies  as  ye  are." 

"  0,  how  annoying  !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Tincum. 

Miss  G.  was  pleased  with  the  independence  of 
the  washerwoman,  and  kept  her  sitting.  She  saw 
that  there  was  plenty  of  money  in  the  purse,  and 
she  hoped  to  prevail  upon  Mrs.  Tincum  to  pay  at 
least  a  moiety  of  what  she  owed.  But  not  so  ;  — 
the  hard-hearted  woman  declared  that  they  had 
no  demands  on  her,  and  she  was  not  able  to  be 
charitable.  It  could  not  be  expected  from  unfor- 
tunate people,  who  had  just  failed. 


VANITY  AND  DISHONESTY.  149 

At  length,  evidently  afraid  that  Miss  G.  would 
not  go  before  other  callers  came,  she  offered  her  a 
twenty-five  cent  piece  for  them,  saying  she  would 
call  and  see  them  as  soon  as  she  felt  strong 
enough,  and  hoped  to  do  more. 

Miss  G.  was  indignant  at  the  meanness  of  the 
gift,  as  Mrs.  Tincum  called  it,  yet  thought  it 
best  to  take  it,  lest  the  weak  woman  should  flatter 
herself  that  she  had  wished  to  give  to  the  needy, 
but  had  been  refused,  and  it  was  not  her  fault  if 
they  did  suffer. 

The  same  evening  Mrs.  Tincum' s  splendid  dress 
and  elegant  appearance  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  fashionables  ;  and  Mr.  Tincum  wriggled  about 
in  his  seat,  evidently  much  delighted  with  the  idea 
of  having  overbid  a  rich  gentleman  at  the  ticket 
auction. 

13* 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

ESTHER'S  JOURNAL. 


"Nov.  12.  For  more  than  three  weeks  I  have 
sewed  and  sewed  with  all  my  might,  and  have 
hardly  been  able  to  keep  soul  and  body  together. 
How  I  wish  that  that  young  kdy  would  take 
French  lessons  of  father  !  —  It  would  be  a  great 
help  to  us.  Poor  man  !  how  thankful  he  was 
for  that  little  bowl  of  chocolate ;  and  how  very 
kind  Miss  G.  is  !  Alas  !  I  fear  she  injures  her- 
self in  doing  so  much  for  us.  She  looked  sick 
to-day.  How  I  wished  to  work  for  her  and  help 
her,  when  she  is  so  hurried  ! 

"  Nov.  13.  My  eyes  ache  badly.  What  will 
become  of  us  if  I  cannot  see  to  do  this  fine  needle- 
work ?  0,  how  my  blood  boiled,  when  that  cruel 
woman  tried  to  beat  me  down  in  my  work  !  How 
could  she  expect  so  much  for  so  little  money? 
Great  God,  forgive  !  I  do  not  mean  to  complain. 
I  have  been  blessed  beyond  measure,  and  it  is 


INWARD   STRUGGLES.  151 

right  that  I  should  learn,  by  experience,  what 
others  suffer.  I  fear  that  I  have  too  little  cour- 
age. To-morrow,  if  I  live,  I  will  he  cheerful 
all  day.  I  will  try  to  find  pleasure  in  my 
work. 

"Nov.  15.  Now  that  I  have  a  mattress  to 
myself,  I  shall  rest  better  and  feel  stronger. 
Holy  Father  !  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  enabled  to 
do  the  work  which  thou  givest  me  to  do. 

"  Nov.  21.  So  much  time  has  elapsed,  and  I 
have  not  been  able  to  take  my  pen  in  my  hand. 
They  prepare  for  Thanksgiving,  as  they  call  it. 
They  ought  to  be  thankful  every  day.  Miss  G. 
tells  me  that  the  families  meet  together,  and 
have  pleasant  entertainments.  She  has  brought 
us  a  chicken,  all  nicely  cooked.  I  hope  I  may  be 
sufficiently  thankful.  If  I  could  meet  with  my 
friends  !  Have  I  no  relatives  ?  I  dare  not  agi- 
tate my  father  by  speaking  of  them,  though  ray 
heart  is  bursting  with  impatience.  0,  if  I  only 
knew  who  and  where  De  Lacy  is  !  —  Stop,  stop 
rebellious  thoughts,  and  cease  ye  tears  to  flow ! 
God  forgive  me,  I  do  not  mean  to  repine  !  I 
am  thankful. 


152  THANKSGIVING   DAY. 

"Nov.  22.  FatEer  has  seemed  so  much  like 
himself  all  day.  We,  too,  have  had  a  pleasant 
Thanksgiving.  How  kind  of  Mr.  A.  to  send  us 
that  French  book  !  Words  are  sweeter  in  French 
than  in  English ;  it  may  be  because  it  is  my  na- 
tive tongue.  How  strange  we  are  !  Last  night 
I  went  to  sleep  crying  for  sorrow,  and  to-night  I 
cry  for  joy.  We  really  do  live  tolerably  well. 
Who  knows  but  that  I  shall  yet  be  able  to  get  an 
overcoat,  so  that  father  may  go  out  a  little  every 
day  ?  I  don't  care  about  any  other  shawl,  now 
that  I  have  this  knit  jacket.  How  strange  that 
ladies  should  offer  me  old  clothes  in  payment  for 
work  !  —  but  I  am  glad  of  this  jacket ;  't  is  almost 
as  good  as  money.  0,  my  eyes,  how  much  they 
pain  me  ! 

"Nov.  25.  .When  shall  I  be  patient  as  I 
ought  ?  To-day  I  became  very  much  excited.  I 
must  have  looked  angry.  I  thought,  then,  that  I 
could  not  help  it,  but  I  see  that  I  was  wrong. 
May  I  be  forgiven  all  these  sins.  I  will  try  to 
to  do  better.  Alas  !  Mrs.  Day  used  to  tell  me 
that  I  was  mild  and  gentle.  What  would  she 
say,  were  she  to  see  me  in  contact  with  these 


DEEPER  TRIALS.  153 

mean  people  ?  A  woman  call  herself  a  lady,  and 
try  to  cheat  me  out  of  my  just  dues !  But  I  will 
make  my  father  as  comfortable  as  I  can,  at  any 
sacrifice  to  myself.  I  feel  that  he  is  not  long  to 
be  with  me.  0,  that  frightful  cough  !  How  it 
chills  my  blood !  Heavenly  Father,  help  me  to 
do  right ! 

"  Nov.  30.  A  dog  to  board !  Who  ever  heard 
of  such  a  thing  ?  Dear  little  creature,  I  begin  to 
love  him  already.  Well,  this  will  be  a  great  help, 
—  one  dollar  a  week,  —  and  Miss  G.  says  she  can 
bring  enough  for  him  to  eat,  except  a  little  milk 
now  and  then.  The  lady  thinks  of  being  gone 
two  months,  —  that  will  be  eight  dollars.  0,  how 
much  I  can  do  with  eight  dollars  !  And  then  I 
am  to  crochet  evenings ;  that  will  spare  my  eyes. 
God  be  praised  for  all  his  mercy  ! 

" Dec.  1.     How  cold   it  has  been   all  day! 

i 

Winter  has  come  in  earnest.  I  wonder  what  this 
pain  in  my  shoulders  means.  I  never  had  such 
pains  before.  Always  complaining.  Come,  dear 
little  pet, — that's  right,  your  good  coat  will  keep 
my  feet  warm.  You  will  warm  the  bed  so  much, 
that  I  can  spare  my  jacket  for  father's  feet.  I 


154  THE   PET. 

wonder  what  the  deacon  would  say  to  our  style  of 
living  now  ?  I  should  really  like  Aunt  Nannie's 
black  cat,  to  wink  at  me  in  this  lonely  room. 
Christmas  is  coming,  and  I  shall  make  no  presents 
this  time.  When  shall  we  hear  from  France? 
Why,  what  a  mess  for  a  journal !  Well,  it 's  lucky 
no  one  sees  it  but  myself.  Somehow,  I  feel  very 
happy  to-night.  I  believe  the  dog  will  do  me 
good,  he  smiles  so  prettily ;  and  we  love  each 
other,  don't  we  pet  ?  Ten  o'clock,  —  0  dear  !  I 
ought  not  to  burn  a  lamp  till  this  time.  'T  will 
never  do ! 

"  Dec.  2.  Last  night  I  had  such  a  dream  !  I 
hope  I  can  dream  the  same  to-night.  Why  need 
I  think  so  much  of  De  Lacy  ?  0,  my  Father  in 
heaven,  forgive  these  tears  !  Thou  knowest  my 
heart,  that  I  am  contented  with  my  lot !  If  I 
must  never  see  that  dear  face  again,  thy  will  be 
done. 

"Dec.  3.  This  morning  I  did  not  rise  till 
eight  for  the  wood  was  nearly  gone,  and  I 
thought  to  keep  warm  in  bed  and  save  it.  Then 
I  found  father  too  weak  to  get  up.  How  hard  it 
was  to  tell  him  I  had  no  money,  when  he  asked 


FAITH   FAILING.  155 

for  chocolate.  0,  dear !  it  has  been  a  day  of 
trials.  I  wish  I  did  n't  need  the  work  of  that 
impertinent  fellow ;  but  he  pays  well,  and  I  sup- 
pose I  must  be  insulted  to  humble  my  pride.  God 
bless  Miss  G.  tenfold,  for  her  loving-kindness ! 
What  could  I  do  without  her  ?  She  is  my  patron 
saint.  Well,  I  will  muster  courage  and  go  with 
her  to-morrow ;  but  how  can  I  leave  my  flither 
long  enough  to  give  lessons,  if  they  take  me  ? 
He  who  knows  what 's  best  will  order  all ! 

"  Dec.  7.  Now  do  I  feel  that  my  cup  of  afflic- 
tion is  full  to  overflowing.  Help,  Lord,  or  I 
perish  !  Dear  father  !  how  can  I  part  from  him  1 
Wliat  will  become  of  me  ?  0,  I  am  sick,  sick  at 
heart !  Lord,  save  thy  servant  who  trusteth  in 
thee  !  Feign  would  I  say,  l  Thy  will  be  done,' 
but  my  stubborn  heart  refuses.  I  cannot  give  up 
that  dear  parent !  How  selfish  I  am !  I  know 
the  change  would  be  for  his  good,  and  yet  I  am 
not  willing  to  let  him  go.  What  is  life  to  that  poor 
soul !  0,  that  I  could  lie  down  with  him  in  the 
grave ! 

"  Dec.  10.  One  evil  seldom  comes  alone.  The 
doctor  says  he  must  die  ;  and  the  letter  that  we 


156  THE   LETTER. 

have  so  long  prayed  for,  comes  just  in  time  to  give 
the  final  dash  to  all  my  hopes.  And  so  my  uncle 
has  really  taken  all  the  property  from  us,  and 
treats  the  deacon  and  his  wife  ill.  They  bear  it 
with  the  true  Christian  spirit.  I  should  like  to 
go  to  them,  but  they  advise  me  to  keep  out  of  his 
sight.  Well,  I  can,  at  least,  hear  from  those  dear 
friends,  and  that  will  be  a  great  comfort,  let  me 
be  where  I  may.  The  money  they  send  will  be  a 
help.  Why  am  I  always  repining  ?  I  deserve 
punishment.  It  is  an  unspeakable  blessing  to  see 
my  dear  father  so  ready  to  depart;  to  hear  his 
prayers,  and  receive  his  benedictions.  Would  to 
Heaven  that  I  were  as  good  as  he  thinks  I  am ! 
Because  he  does  not  see  me  weep,  and  I  try  to 
appear  cheerful,  he  thinks  I  am  so,  and  praises  me 
for  it.  Great  and  infinite  Maker  of  all  things, 
visible  and  invisible,  renew  thy  spirit  in  the  heart 
of  thy  weak  servant ! 

"  Dec.  28.  0,  heart !  cease  thy  beatings  !  My 
head  !  my  head  !  What  are  poverty,  sickness  and 
death,  to  the  taunts  and  insults  of  those  unfeeling 

Sarah  De  Lacy  !     How  could  she  cross  my 

track  again  ?   Yes,  yes  !    I  who  gave  the  splendid 


THE  ENCOUNTER.  157 

entertainment  in  Paris,  as  she  said,  I  am  now 
beneath  her  notice,  and  she  sweeps  by  me  as  if  I 
•were  an  object  vile  !  What  am  I  ?  The  same 
Esther  as  in  Paris  !  A  creature  in  God's  image, 
who  asks  nothing  of  her,  of  any  one,  but  work. 
Work  I  must  have  to  live,  and  I  have  a  right  to 
live,  for  God  in  heaven  is  as  much  my  father  a3 
hers.  What  do  I  say?  0,  deacon!  Mrs.  Abel! 
De  Lacy !  — yes,  De  Lacy  !  — pray,  pray  for  me  ! 
"  Dec.  29.  How  differently  I  feel,  from  what 
I  did  last  night !  I  thought  I  was  crazy  !  'T  was 
very  foolish  to  be  so  much  excited,  because  that 
woman  looked  and  spoke  so  scornfully.  I  hope 
the  tears  I  have  shed  to-day  were  peniten- 
tial tears,  and  that  the  Almighty  will  give  me 
strength  to  endure  whatever  he  is  pleased  to  put 
upon  me !  " 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

M.  LB  GENDRE'S  DEATH. 

M.  LE  GENDRE  grew  weaker  and  weaker.  He 
did  not  appear  to  suffer  much,  but  to  lose  strength 
from  day  to  day.  He  asked  Mr.  A.  for  paper  and 
pen,  on  the  second  of  January,  and,  with  a  feeble 
hand,  traced  a  few  lines  to  the  father  of  his  wife, 
in  St.  Augustine.  This  he  carefully  sealed,  and, 
calling  Esther  to  his  bed-side,  he  advised  her  to 
seek  out  her  grandfather,  and  try  to  make  herself 
happy  in  his  family  until  something  should  favor 
her  return  to  Paris.  "  Good  and  dutiful  child," 
said  he,  "receive  your  father's  blessing.  I  know 
that  God  will  order  all  things  well;  and  I  doubt 
not  that  there  is  earthly  happiness  in  store  for 
you.  Remember,  my  child,  that  trust  in  God  is 
worth  more  than  all  the  pomp  and  glory  of  this 
world,  and  that  your  good  conduct  has  rendered 
your  father's  end  a  happy  one."  His  voice  failed. 
Mr.  A.  laid  him  gently  back  on  his  pillow.  Miss 


ESTHER  ALONE.  159 

G.  and  Esther  stood  at  his  side.  He  opened  his 
eyes,  and  faintly  -whispered,  "  Thanks  !  "  then  fell 
into  a  quiet  sleep,  from  -which  he  never  awoke  on 
earth.  The  next  day  he  was  a  corpse. 

Esther's  grief  was  quiet  and  chastened.  Her 
soul  appeared  to  be  with  his  in  the  land  of 
spirits. 

Mr.  A.  and  Miss  G.  gave  him  as  decent  a 
burial  as  circumstances  would  admit.  It  was  then 
thought  advisable  to  fit  Esther  out  for  her  rela- 
tives as  soon  as  possible.  The  physician,  who 
had  attended  her  father,  advised  that  she  should 
not  remain  in  Boston  till  spring,  the  climate  being  • 
unfavorable  to  her  delicate  constitution. 

Miss  G.  fully  appreciated  Esther's  delicacy  and 
independent  spirit;  and  had  spared  her  many 
hard  rubs  with  those  ladies,  who  wish  their  work 
done  in  the  best  manner,  and  pay  for  it  with  cast- 
off  finery.  She  had  often  paid  doubly  for  a  piece 
of  embroidery,  from  her  own  pocket,  and  rejoiced 
that  she  had  done  so  when  she  saw  the  gratitude 
of  father  and  daughter  for  all  that  the  Lord  did 
for  them. 

The  money  received  for  the  care  of  the  dog, 


160  NEW  INTRIGUES. 

together  with  the  remittance  from  the  deacon, 
would  make  a  comfortable  outfit  for  Esther. 

It  appeared,  from  Mr.  Day's  letter,  that  Eugene 
was  far  less  generous  than  his  brother,  and  had  so 
much  retrenched  the  charitable  operations,  that 
they  were  obliged  to  use  their  own  funds,  which 
were,  at  the  date  of  the  letter,  very  low. 

Sarah  De  Lacy  was,  as  Louis  told  the  deacon, 
artful  and  cunning.  Previous  to  leaving  Paris, 
she  accidentally  met  Christophe,  whom  she  bribed 
to  notify  her  of  all  that  was  going  on  in  the  Le 
Gendre  family,  and  also  to  intercept,  as  far  as  he 
could,  any  communications  between  them  and  her 
cousin,  should  he  travel,  as  she  expected  he  would. 
Christophe  leagued  with  Charlie,  who  told  him  all 
that  was  going  on,  thus  enabling  him  to  gratify 
Sarah  in  her  wicked  schemes. 

She  rejoiced  in  her  own  heart,  but  lisped  not  a 
word  of  the  loss  of  the  Anne  Marie  and  her  people. 
To  her  cousin  she  was  more  kind  and  attentive,  and 
so  far  won  upon  his  affections,  that,  when  she  left 
to  visit  her  friends  at  the  North,  he  regretted  her 
absence,  and  begged  her  to  return  soon. 

In  a  letter  to  her  aunt,  Sarah,  as  if  influenced 


PERPLEXITIES.  161 

by  the  spirit  of  evil,  enclosed  a  note  to  Louis,  in- 
forming him  that  his  jewel.  Melle.  Le  Gendre, 
was  quite  a  public  character  in  Boston. 

This  puzzled  the  young  man  exceedingly. 
Was  Esther  in  Boston  ?  How  came  she  there  1 
What  sort  of  a  public  life  could  his  cousin  mean  ? 
There  was  a  mystery  about  it.  Why  had  he  not 
had  letters  from  the  deacon?  Something  was 
wrong  about  it.  So  he  wrote  immediately  to  Paris, 
requesting  Mr.  Day,  in  the  most  affectionate  man- 
ner, to  relieve  his  mind  from  its  distressing  anxiety. 
Then,  in  as  cool  a  manner  as  possible,  he  asked 
Sarah  what  she  referred  to  concerning  Esther. 
To  the  last  letter  the  answer  was  that  the  young 
lady  was  now  nothing  more  than  a  beggar  in  Bos- 
ton. She  had  seen  Mrs.  Tincum,  who  had  herself 
administered  to  Esther's  necessities;  and,  more- 
over, she  saw  Esther,  with  her  own  eyes,  receive 
money  from  a  lady  as  compensation  for  taking 
care  of  a  dog. 

On  reading  this  letter,  De  Lacy  became  greatly 

excited ;  at  first  he  thought  it  was  written  to  see 

what  he  would  do  ;  then  he  believed  it  true,  and 

rightly  supposed  that  some  terrible  catastrophe 

14*  K 


162  DE  LACY'S  PLANS. 

had  driven  her  to  the  necessity  of  seeking  a  living 
in  the  new  world.  How  it  could  be,  he  could  not 
understand.  What  he  was  to  do,  he  knew  not ; 
he  had  freed  as  many  of  his  slaves  as  chose  to 
take  their  freedom,  and  the  rest  needed  his  con- 
stant care  for  a  time.  His  means  were  limited, 
and  his  labors  great ;  yet  he  determined  to  leave 
all,  and  go  in  search  of  Esther.  But  now  a  new 
difficulty  arose ;  should  he  depart  suddenly,  Sarah 
would  be  at  once  convinced  that  he  was  in  pursuit 
of  Esther,  and  might  put  her  wicked  threats  of  per- 
suading his  aunt  to  disinherit  him  into  execution. 

The  thought  of  that  young  lady  being  cast  upon 
the  world  so  completely  absorbed  his  mind,  that 
it  seemed  to  him  a  duty  to  find  and  help  her. 
Calling  the  blacks  about  him,  he  addressed  them 
thus:  " My  friends,  you  know  how  much  I  like 
to  be  with  and  assist  you  in  your  labors.  You 
know  that  I  would  not  willingly  separate  myself 
from  my  own  family,  unless  duty  called  ;  and  an 
imperative  duty  does  call  me  away  for  a  time. 
Can  you,  will  you  manifest  your  love  for  me, 
by  going  on  with  your  work  just  as  if  I  were 
present  with  you  ?  " 


A  NEW   OVERSEER.  163 

"  Yes,  masse,  yes  !     If  you  mus'  go." 

"It  is  my  wish  to  leave  quietly;  if  you  will 
help  me,  with  God's  blessing,  I  trust  I  shall  suc- 
ceed in  what  I  undertake." 

"  Yes,  masse ;  God  be  good  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  let  me  tell  you  each  to  do  hia 
own  work  without  interfering  with  the  other.  If 
all  is  right,  and  you  do  your  best,  I  hope  to  bring 
a  friend  to  live  with  us,  who  will  increase  our 
happiness  as  a  family." 

"  Masse,"  said  an  old  man,  "  'scuse  poor  old 
nigger,  but,  I  tell  you  what  't  is,  we  mus'  hab 
somebody  to  head  us.  These  niggers  don't  know 
nothing,  — how  can  um  work  ?  " 

"What  do  you  wish  to  have  done  ?"  said  De 
Lacy. 

"You  choose  one  to  tell  the  oder,  —  not  ober- 
seer, — we  don't  want  um.  Onlyjist  so  to  go 
straight,"  continued  the  old  man. 

"  I  choose  you,  Sammie.  What  do  the  rest  of 
you  say  1 "  called  out  De  Lacy. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  Sammie  good  !  He  knows  whot !  " 
shouted  several  voices.  "And  the  cook  for  house- 
misses  !  That  go  well !  " 


164  PRECAUTION. 

"Lor'  bless  masse's  young  heart!  I  never 
thought  of  sich  'oners,  and  I  fere  I  can  no  be 
'sponsible  fur  sich  high  office  !  "  exclaimed  Sam- 
mie. 

But  the  general  voice  was  in  favor  of  Sammie, 
and  he  was  duly  installed  as  a  sort  of  patriarch  to 
the  rest.  He  was  well  qualified  for  his  task,  and 
his  master  set  about  making  preparations  for  his 
departure,  with  a  much  lighter  heart  than  he  had 
anticipated.  He  remembered  how  faithful  Sammie 
had  been  to  his  father,  and  he  saw  that  he  was 
respected  by  his  fellow-servants,  which  was  good 
proof  of  his  influence  upon  them.  Besides,  Sam- 
mie was  a  Christian  ;  he  knew  that  the  eye  of  the 
Almighty  was  upon  him,  and  he  wished  to  live  so 
that  he  could  feel  that  his  Father  loved  him  with 
the  love  of  a  dear  parent,  who  makes  no  distinc- 
tion in  his  earthly  children. 

De  Lacy,  fearing  the  interference  of  his  aunt's 
overseer,  should  his  own  absence  be  noticed,  gave 
written  instructions  into  the  hands  of  Sammie, 
signifying  that  he  wished  his  people  to  exercise 
their  own  discretion  in  managing  affairs,  and  be 
left  to  themselves  until  his  return. 


THE   ENCOUNTER.  165 

Arriving  in  Boston,  he  found  that  his  cousin 
had  gone  to  Washington  with  her  friends.  He 
now  tried  to  find  the  Tincums,  but  they,  too,  had 
left  on  a  tour  of  pleasure.  Whom  to  ask  for 
Esther,  or  where  to  go  in  pursuit  of  her,  he  knew 
not.  Day  after  day  he  spent  in  searching  among 
the  poor,  and  inquiring  of  the  benevolent,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  Passing  through  Washington 
street  one  day,  he  was  accosted  by  an  interesting 
child,  about .  six  years  old,  who  asked  him  to  go 
with  her  to  Summer  street,  as  she  could  not  find 
it.  He,  having  nothing  to  do,  led  her  to  the  place, 
and  then  to  the  door  of  a  genteel  house. 

"  0,  there  comes  Louise  !  "  said  the  child, 
bounding  towards  a  young  woman,  whom  De  Lacy 
thought  he  recognized.  The  moment  she  put  her 
eye  on  him  she  cried  out, 

"  M.  De  Lacy  !     Where,  where  is  Esther?  " 

"Is  it  you,  Louise?"  replied  he.  "And  can 
you  not  tell  me  where  she  is  ?  " 

Louise  invited  him  into  the  house,  where  she 
gave  him  a  minute  account  of  all  that  had  hap- 
pened. After  the  shipwreck,  she  had  been  taken 
on  board  a  vessel  bound  for  Boston,  and  immedi- 


166  THE   DISAPPOINTMENT. 

atelj  on  her  landing,  had  been  placed,  by  the 
captain  of  the  vessel,  in  the  family  where  she  now 
lived,  to  teach  the  children  French  ;  that  she  had 
not  heard  a  word  from  France,  and  it  was  gener- 
ally supposed  that  all  on  board  the  Anne  Marie 
were  lost.  She  should  be  quite  happy,  for  the 
people  were  very  kind  to  her,  if  she  could  hear 
from  her  country  once  more,  and  be  sure  about 
Esther.  She  had  thought  and  dreamed  so  much 
of  her,  that  she  was  almost  persuaded  that  she 
was  in  the  land  of  the  living. 

M.  De  Lacy,  in  his  turn,  told  her  what  he  had 
heard  through  his  cousin,  and  of  his  attempts  to 
get  some  trace  of  Esther. 

Louise  naturally  related  to  the  lady  with 
whom  she  lived  the  purport  of  the  gentleman's 
visit,  and  she  in  turn  related  it  to  some  lady 
visitors  who  called  upon  her  the  next  morning ; 
one  of  them  had  a  young  gentleman  friend,  who 
had  cravats,  etc.,  beautifully  wrought  by  a 
foreigner,  who,  she  thought,  might  be  the  person. 
She  promised  to  inquire,  and,  a  few  days  after, 
Louise  accompanied  Louis  to  the  house  of  Miss 
G.,  who  was  out  of  town.  Her  mother,  however, 


A   VOYAGE   TO    CUBA.  167 

told  him  all  she  knew  of  Esther,  greatly  praising 
her  piety  and  devotion  to  her.  She  then  gave 
him  what  she  thought  to  be  the  address  of 
Esther's  grandfather  in  Cuha. 

Highly  delighted  with  what  he  had  heard  of 
Esther's  nohleness  and  virtue,  under  so  many 
difficulties,  he  set  out  immediately  for  Cuha ; 
promising  to  inform  Louise  of  further  success. 

Pleasant  weather  and  propitious  winds  soon 
landed  him  at  Havana,  from  whence  he  waa 
directed  to  Matanzas.  He  found  the  family  whose 
address  he  had,  but  they  were  ignorant  of  such  a 
person  as  Esther  Le  Gendre. 

Buoyant  in  hope,  persevering  in  purpose,  trust- 
ing in  a  guiding  Providence,  De  Lacy  was  disap- 
pointed, but  not  discouraged. 

He  returned  at  once  to  Boston,  to  get  more 
particular  information  from  Miss  Goddard  herself. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

OPPRESSION'S  DEVICES. 

"WELL,  wife,  I  have  at  length  found  out  who 
our  nice  young  lady's  grandfather  is,"  said  Mr. 
Brown. 

"I  am  thankful,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Brown, 
"the  dear,  young  creature  seems  so  lonely  and 
sad.  I  've  not  been  able  to  persuade  her  to  go 
out  with  me  since  we  arrived.  She  is  very 
interesting.  Don't  you  think  her  a  very  sensible 
person  ?  " 

"Remarkable,  for  a  negress,"  said  Mr.  Brown, 
very  sarcastically. 

"What?  I  don't  understand  you,"  exclaimed 
the  lady. 

"  Easy  enough  understood  !  "  retorted  Mr. 
Brown.  "That  freesoiler  has  played  the  Yan- 
kee with  me.  What  impertinence,  to  palm  a 
mulattress  upon  our  care  and  society  !  He  must 


RELENTLESS  PREJUDICE.        169 

have  seen  that  she  had  black  blood  in  her ;  —  any- 
fool  could  see  it." 

"Why  did  you  not  refuse  to  take  her  under 
your  protection,"  said  Mrs.  Brown,  very  much 
affected,  "if  you  knew  it?  Cruel  man,  to  expose 
your  wife  to  the  sneers  of  the  other  passengers  ! 
Here  I  have  waited  upon  that  girl  as  if  she  had 
been  a  princess,  and  all  to  please  you.  Shame  ! 
shame  !  "  and  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Indeed,  madam !"  replied  Mr.  Brown,  in  a 
very  angry  tone  ;  "so  you  wish  to  blame  me  for 
your  own  foolish  generosity  ?  When  I  spoke  to 
you  about  the  girl,  did  n't  you  say,  take  her  by 
all  means?" 

"  Certainly ;  —  what  should  I  have  said,  when 
you  were  so  anxious  to  oblige  Mr.  A.  1 "  said  she. 

"And  haven't  you  been  praising  her  every- 
day since  we  left  Boston  ?  I  should  like  to  know 
that !  "  almost  shouted  the  affectionate  husband. 

"Well,  but  I  didn't  know  that  she  was  black," 
responded  the  lady,  more  mildly. 

Here  the  entrance  of  a  servant  put  an  end  to 
the  interesting  conversation. 

At  supper  Esther  was  not  invited  to  partake 
15 


170  NEW   PERILS. 

with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brown,  as  heretofore,  but  was 
served,  in  her  own  little  room,  by  a  domestic  who 
had  listened  to  what  was  spoken  in  such  angry 
tones,  and  whose  curiosity  was  so  much  excited, 
that  she  resolved  to  make  bold  and  ask  the  young 
lady  herself  what  friends  she  had  in  the  place. 

Esther  answered  her  questions  freely,  and  then 
inquired  why  she  asked. 

"Because  I  thought  it  might  be  of  service  to 
you,  miss,  to  know  that  you  'd  better  go  to  your 
relations  as  quickly  as  possible.  Mr.  Brown  has 
ascertained  that  you  belong  to  a  colored  family ; 
and  if  he  is  like  other  gentlemen  who  live  upon 
the  blood  of  us  poor  slaves,  so  to  say,  he  will  try 
to  get  some  excuse  for  making  out  that  you  are  a 
slave,  so  as  to  sell  you.  I  have  tested  the  tender 
mercies  of  these  white  people,  before  I  bought  my 
freedom ;  and  I  don't  trust  any  of  them." 

Esther  thanked  her  kindly  for  the  interest  she 
took  in  her  welfare,  and  begged,  if  the  captain  of 
the  barque  in  which  they  came  to  Charleston  waa 
lodging  in  the  house,  that  she  would  procure  an 
interview  for  her. 


TRUE   CONJECTURE.  171 

i 

Poor  Esther  !  she  did  not  close  her  eyes  that 
night. 

The  girl  was  right  in  her  conjectures.  Mr. 
Brown,  after  his  passion,  at  what  he  thought 
being  imposed  upon,  had  subsided,  began  -to 
think  that  he  would  make  the  best  of  it  by  qui- 
etly returning  to  his  own  plantation  with  Esther. 
He  supposed  that  she,  being  a  young,  timid  and 
inexperienced  person,  might  be  easily  managed, 
and  thus  become  a  valuable  acquisition  to  his 
household. 

At  breakfast,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  his 
wife,  he  went  to  call  Esther  himself;  and,  after 
greeting  her  kindly,  told  her  that  he  had  not  been 
able  to  get  information  of  her  grandfather,  and 
would  take  her  home  with  his  wife,  until  he 
should  receive  further  directions  from  her  friend, 
Mr.  A.,  to  whom  he  had  already  written. 

Mrs.  Brown  attempted  to  speak,  but  a  look 
from  her  husband  silenced  her. 

Esther  made  no  reply,  but  turned  an  imploring 
glance  to  the  domestic,  who  was  waiting  at  table, 
which  was  answered  by  a  significant  nod. 

After  breakfast,  Esther  retired  to  her  room, 


172  TRUST  IN  GOD. 

and  devoutly  resigned  herself  to  the  care  of  her 
Maker.  All  night  she  had  wept  and  prayed,  and 
now  a  heavenly  calmness  took  possession  of  her 
soul.  Something  seemed  to  say  to  her,  "Be 
quiet,  Esther ;  God  is  with  you."  And  she 
looked  up  almost  expecting  to  see  a  protector 
near  her ;  but  no  living  mortal  was  there.  She 
was  alone,  —  yet  not  alone,  for  her  spirit  was 
communing  with  the  invisible. 

Mrs.  Brown,  before  going  out  to  take  leave  of 
friends,  came  to  Esther  and  desired  her  to  prepare 
to  go  with  them  immediately  after  dinner.  Her 
manner  was  unusually  kind,  and  Esther  thought 
she  had  been  weeping.  As  soon  as  she  was  out 
of  sight,  the  girl  before  spoken  of  carefully  crept 
into  her  room,  and,  thrusting  a  letter  into  her 
hand,  whispered,  "  'T  is  yours.  I  took  it  from 
his  pocket." 

Esther  opened  it  with  a  trembling  hand.  It 
was  a  letter  from  a  store-keeper  in  St.  Augustine 
to  Mr.  Brown,  stating  that  Gaetano  Lopez,  her 
grandfather,  was  a  wealthy  negro,  living  about 
two  miles  from  the  city  on  his  own  plantation ; 
that  he  was  an  old  resident,  and  much  respected 


A  LETTER.  178 

for  a  man  of  color.  It  then  gave  minute  direc- 
tions for  finding  his  place,  etc.  Here  was  a  ray 
of  hope  for  Esther.  She  copied  the  letter  care- 
fully, and  returned  it  to  the  "woman.  For  some 
hours  she  sat  thinking  and  thinking,  but  could 
not  determine  what  step  to  take.  Should  she 
throw  herself  upon  the  master  of  the  house  for 
protection?  Lucile,  who  was  certainly  acting 
friendly  towards  her,  said  there  was  no  trust  in 
these  men.  Should  she  attempt  to  run  away, 
where  could  she  go  ?  Again  she  wept  and 
prayed,  and  again  a  spirit  whispered  "peace." 

At  dinner  she  excused  herself,  on  a  plea  of 
headache.  Mrs.  Brown  came  to  her,  and,  by  her 
affectionate  manner,  encouraged  the  sufferer  to 
hope  that  she  did  not  conspire  with  her  husband 
against  her.  Once  or  twice  Esther  was  tempted 
to  ask  what  were  Mr.  Brown's  intentions  with 
regard  to  her,  but  prudence  forbade.  Her  head 
did  ache  violently,  but  her  heart  was  more  at 
ease.  She  felt  that  the  same  Providence  which 
had  preserved  her  thus  far,  could  still  preserve ; 
and  though  she  saw  not  the  means  of  escape,  she 
hoped,  she  trusted,  that  all  would  yet  be  well. 
15* 


174  A   PLOT  DISCOVERED. 

After  dinner,  angry  words  between  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Brown  attracted  her  attention.  The  idea 
of  listening  was  repugnant  to  her  sense  of  honor, 
yet  her  safety,  her  freedom,  and  perhaps  her  life, 
were  pending,  and  for  the  first  time  she  tried  to 
hear  that  which  was  not  intended  for  her  ears. 

"I  told  you  that  I  must  go  this  afternoon,  and 
you  might  have  been  ready.  'T  is  n't  the  first 
time  that  you  have  served  me  so ! "  said  Mr. 
Brown. 

1 '  Do  go,  if  you  must,  and  I  will  follow  you  IE. 
a  day  or  two,"  replied  his  wife. 

"  That  would  be  fine.  And  what 's  to  be  done 
with  Esther  ?  —  you  know  I  can't  take  her  with- 
out you,"  continued  he. 

"Leave  her  with  me ;  I  '11  take  care  of  her," 
answered  Mrs.  Brown. 

"No,  you  don't  let  her  slip  through  my  fingers. 
I  '11  tell  you ;  she  's  too  good  a  prize.  I  shall 
order  the  carriage  in  two  hours,  and  you  see  that 
all  is  ready,  madam.  I  won't  be  balked  by  your 
nonsense,"  growled  he. 

"  You  can  as  well  wait  till  to-morrow  morning, 
my  dear,"  insisted  Mrs.  Brown. 


THE   RESCUE.  175 

"And  you  can  as  well  go  now,  my  dear," 
urged  Mr.  Brown. 

But  the  journey  was  postponed  till  the  morrow, 
and  Esther  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep. 

She  was  aroused  by  some  one  creeping  into  her 
chamber,  and,  before  she  was  able  to  move,  she  was 
wrapped  in  the  bed-clothes,  head  and  feet,  and 
carried  off  Scream  she  could  not ;  but  she  strug- 
gled hard  for  some  minutes,  when,  finding  herself 
firmly  held  by  two  persons,  and  carried  rapidly 
forward,  she  yielded  quietly  to  her  fate,  commend- 
ing herself  to  Him  in  whom  she  trusted.  Pres- 
ently they  placed  her  in  some  vehicle,  in  a  lying 
posture,  still  holding  her  as  if  to  prevent  being 
seen  or  heard,  and  drove  off  at  a  rapid  rate. 
After  riding  she  knew  not  how  long,  they  stop- 
ped and  lifted  her  gently  out,  and  into  a  room, 
shutting  the  door  after  them.  She  heard  the 
carriage  drive  away  before  her  head  was  uncov- 
ered. Her  heart  beat  violently ;  her  breath  was 
almost  gone ;  she  trembled,  and  dared  not  open 
her  eyes,  till  the  gentle  voice  of  Lucile  cried  out, 
"  Courage,  miss,  you  are  saved  !  " 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  cried  Esther,  wildly. 


176  FBIENDS   INDEED. 

"  Among  your  friends,"  said  another  sweet 
voice,  and  a  handsome  negress  smiled  pleasantly 
upon  her. 

"  Are  you  my  relations  ?  Where  is  my  grand- 
father ?"  exclaimed  the  astonished  Esther. 

"We  are  not,"  said  Lucile  ;  "but  this  woman 
knows  your  grandfather,  and  will  go  to  him  as 
soon  as  Mr.  Brown  is  out  of  the  way." 

A  shudder  came  over  Esther  at  the  name  of 
Brown ;  and,  as  if  the  man  were  ready  to  seize 
her,  she  stared  around  for  a  place  to  hide  her- 
seE 

"I  must  leave  you  and  go  back  to  the  house, 
that  I  be  not  missed,"  said  Lucile.  "My  sister 
will  take  good  care  of  you  till  your  grandfather 
comes." 

"How  can  you  get  back,  'tis  so  far?"  asked 
Esther. 

"  I  suppose  it  seemed  far,  but  it  is  only  two 
miles ;  and  James  is  waiting  with  the  wagon  at 
some  distance.  God  bless  you,"  said  she ;  and 
took  her  leave. 

The  other  woman  sat  by,  and  talked  soothingly 
to  the  grateful  Esther,  who  asked  many  questions 


OPPRESSION.  177 

of  her  grandfather  and  the  inhabitants ;  of  the 
insecurity  of  people  who  had  African  blood  in 
their  veins,  and  of  the  estimation  in  which  colored 
people  were  held. 

"  "We  are  vilified,  degraded  and  depressed  by 
the  whites  ! "  replied  the  woman,  mournfully 
"Less  esteemed  than  the  dog  whom  his  master 
pets  and  caresses.  0,  miss,  I  have  been  a  slave  ! 

—  a  slave  to  people  who  called  themselves  Chris- 
tians !     I  will  not  pain  you  with  my  sufferings, 

—  the   very   remembrance  of  which  makes  me 
shudder." 

"How  did  you  get  away?"  interrupted  the 
attentive  listener. 

"  I  was  a  house  girl.  My  mistress,  Sarah  De 
Lacy,  gave  me  no  rest  night  nor  day." 

At  the  name  De  Lacy,  a  groan  escaped  Esther, 
which  the  woman  attributed  to  fear,  and  con- 
tinued : 

"A  domestic  belonging  to  your  grandfather, 
became  attached  to  me,  and  we  were  secretly 
married.  As  soon  as  my  mistress  discovered  it, 
her  anger  knew  no  bounds  ;  and  I  think  I  should 
have  died  under  the  lashing  inflicted  by  her 

L 


178  THE   PLOT  REVEALED. 

orders,  had  not  her  aunt,  who  is  more  merciful, 
interfered,  and  M.  Lopez  generously  bought  me. 
He  pitied  me,  and  after  teaching  me  many  useful 
things,  and  directing  my  thoughts  heavenward, 
he  removed  us  to  this  place,  where  we  are  free 
and  as  happy  as  we  can  be  in  this  world.  We 
have  our  papers,  in  case  your  grandfather  dies. 
But  we  are  saving  from  our  earnings,  now,  to  pay 
the  moderate  price  he  expects  from  us.  Now  you 
can  understand  why  Lucile  was  so  much  inter- 
ested in  you  when  she  first  saw  you  with  Mr. 
Brown.  She  knew  that  you  were  not  white,  and 
her  curiosity  was  excited ;  for  she  has  seen  him 
buy  several  girls,  and,  at  first,  thought  you  might 
belong  to  him.  Then  you  ate  at  table  Avith 
them,  and  she  mistrusted  mischief,  and  was  on 
the  look-out.  As  soon  as  Mr.  Brown  told  about 
the  letter  from  Mr.  Lopez,  she  came  to  me,  and 
my  husband  and  we  planned  your  escape.  They 
took  you  as  they  did,  so  that  if  any  one  saw 
them,  they  would  not  suppose  they  were  befriend- 
mg  y°u>  orj  at  least,  would  take  less  notice  than 
if  you  had  been  seen  in  their  company.  Now, 
Lucile  will  return  and  dress  your  bed.  James 


NIGHT'S  REPOSE.  179 

will  come  home,  and  Mr.  Brown  -will  never  mis- 
trust where  you  are.  I  should  enjoy  seeing  him 
foam  and  spout ;  but  he  will  not  dare  say  much, 
for  the  keeper  of  the  house  is  not  his  friend,  and 
could  put  him  in  prison  if  he  would  expose  him. 
Do  tell  me  how  you  came  under  his  care." 

"My  friends  in  Boston  inquired  for  a  good 
person,  and  he  was  recommended  to  them,"  said 
Esther. 

"  Then  they  did  not  know  his  character  here. 
I  am  glad  of  that.  I  have  been  thinking  you 
were  entrapped  in  the  first  place." 

"0,  no!"  said  Esther;  "never  were  better 
people  than  those  who  sent  me  here.  I  'm  sure 
they  did  what  they  did  for  the  best." 

"Now  go  to  sleep,  my  dear,"  said  the  kind- 
hearted  woman,  seeing  her  look  heavy  and  tired. 
"  In  the  morning  you  will  know  how  prettily  we 
live ;  and  I  hope  to  make  you  happy  till  good 
Uncle  Lopez  comes." 

With  a  deep  sense  of  her  dependence  upon  Al- 
mighty power,  and  a  heart  teeming  with  thanks- 
giving, did  Esther  close  her  eyes  in  sleep,  for  the 
few  hours  which  remained  of  the  night. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

ESTHER   REACHES  HER  RELATIVES. 

ESTHER  dreamed  that  she  was  at  home,  in  her 
own  pretty  white  chamber ;  that  the  vases  were 
filled  with  fresh  flowers  of  the  sweetest  fragrance, 
and  that  Kate  was  busily  employed  in  dipping 
the  petals  of  a  beautiful  rose  in  the  inkstand, 
laughing  and  crying  out,  from  time  to  time, 
"  Nigger !  nigger  !  " 

She  awoke,  and  found  herself,  indeed,  in  a 
white  chamber.  The  walls  were  whitewashed,  the 
curtains  of  clear  white  muslin,  and  vases  of 
sweet-scented  flowers,  apparently  just  gathered, 
adorned  the  rude  mantel-piece,  and  scattered  their 
fragrance  through  the  room.  On  the  white  pine 
table  were  shells  fantastically  arranged  around 
a  large  Bible.  The  bed-quilt  was  of  white  cotton, 
knotted  in  imitation  of  Marseilles  quilts,  and  the 
whole  evinced  a  refined  and  pure  taste. 

"0,    how    pretty!"    said    Esther.     "What 


A  DISCOVERY.  181 

beautiful  flowers  !  I  have  not  seen  such  since  I 
left  my  own  dear  plants  !  "  and  a  tear  started  to 
her  eye  at  the  thought  of  what  she  had  lost. 
But  she  brushed  it  hastily  away,  and,  lifting  her 
eyes  to  heaven,  said  "  Great  Father,  help  me  to 
be  thankful  for  these  thy  innumerable  bless- 
ings!" 

The  sweet  voices  of  negro  children  singing, 
attracted  her  attention ;  she  looked  from  the 
window  towards  the  place  from  whence  the  sound 
proceeded,  and  exclaimed,  "Beautiful!  beauti- 
ful ! » 

In  an  arbor  of  jessamine,  roses  and  convolvulus, 
sat  the  negro  pair ;  a  Bible  was  open  on  the  knees 
of  the  man,  while  three  little  children  were  cling- 
ing round  in  fond  embrace.  The  mother  was 
teaching  them  to  sing  a  morning  hymn  of  grati- 
tude. Her  voice,  so  rich  and  full,  vibrated,  not 
only  on  the  ear,  but  on  the  heart  of  the  listener. 

"  Are  these  the  roses,  dipped  in  ink,  of  which  I 
was  dreaming?  "  said  Esther,  involuntarily.  Then, 
turning  to  the  glass,  she  sighed,  "I,  too,  am  a 
negro  !  "  She  looked  again;  her  skin  was  white, 
compared  with  theirs,  and  she  could  see  her 
16 


182  DOMESTIC   TRANQUILLITY. 

father's  look  in  her  own  face.  "  Alas  !  "  sighed 
she  again,  "  I  ?m  stamped,  though  I  see  it  not ! " 
and  she  burst  into  tears.  Then,  checking  herself 
with  a  mighty  effort,  she  caught  the  words, 
"  Thanks  to  Thee,  Giver  of  good  !  "  and  repeated 
the  strain  in  a  subdued  voice. 

She  was  nearly  dressed,  when  Grasiella,  as  her 
husband  called  her,  entered,  and  inquired,  kindly, 
after  her  health,  and  showed  her  all  those  little 
attentions  which  the  stranger  so  gratefully  re- 
ceives. 

The  day  passed  pleasantly  away.  There  were 
many  new  sights  for  Esther,  and  various  things 
for  her  to  do.  She  could  look  after  the  little  ones, 
and  care  for  the  flowers,  feed  the  chickens,  and 
fill  up  the  intervals  with  crocheting.  So  true  is 
it  that  persons  of  industrious  habits  find  some- 
thing to  do  in  all  places,  and  at  all  times.  It 
was  well  for  Esther  that  the  little  children  at- 
tached themselves  to  her ; — their  prattle  amused, 
and  their  innocent  caresses  diverted  her. 

When  James  came  in  from  work,  in  the  even- 
ing, his  buoyant  spirit  and  lively  conversation 
completely  drove  away  the  few  misty  clouds  that 


PLEASANT   DAYS.  183 

had  hung  over  the  lonely  girl,  and  she  joined 
heartily  with  them  in  the  song  of  praise,  which 
they  never  ceased  to  raise  before  retiring  to  their 
pillow. 

Sweet  and  refreshing  sleep  lulled  Esther  into 
complete  forge tfulness  of  all  that  had  transpired 
since  the  death  of  her  father,  and  when  she  awoke 
and  found  something  lying  at  her  feet,  she  thought 
it  was  her  pet  dog,  and  called  out,  "  Carlo  !  "  A 
laugh  from  the  baby  restored  her  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  her  true  situation. 

Grasiella  congratulated  her  on  her  early  wak- 
ing, and  greatly  surprised  her  by  saying  it  was 
nearly  noon.  Her  sleep  had  fully  restored  her, 
and  she  arose  and  set  herself  to  work  as  if  at 
home.  Occasionally,  she  sighed  as  she  thought 
of  the  De  Lacys,  and  longed  to  speak  of  him 
whose  memory  she  dearly  cherished.  But  the 
words  died  on  her  lips  ere  she  could  give  them 
utterance ;  and  Grasiella  left  her  no  time  for 
reflection.  Thus  passed  three  days,  quietly,  com- 
fortably and  cheerfully.  The  fourth,  brought 
Lucile,  with  the  delightful  intelligence  that  Mr. 
Brown  was  far  on  his  way  towards  home. 


184  CUPIDITY  DEFEATED. 

"  Such  a  time  as  he  had  with  his  wife  !  "  said 
Lueile.  "  He  was  sure  that  she  knew  where  Miss 
Esther  was,  and  swore  he  would  not  stir  from  the 
place  till  she  brought  her  to  him.  At  first,  she 
tried  to  convince  him  that  she  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it ;  but  after  a  while,  becoming  angry,  she 
threatened  to  expose  him  to  her  friends,  and  to 
commence  search  for  Esther  as  a  free  person,  who 
had  been  clandestinely  stolen  by  his  agency.  This 
cooled  him  down,  and,  after  various  windings  and 
turnings,  he  finally  took  himself  off,  never  once 
imagining  that  I  had  any  finger  in  the  business." 

"  'T  was  all  overruled. for  Esther's  safety,"  said 
Grasiella.  "  God  always  provides  for  his  own 
children  !  I  'm  sure  she  will  be  cared  for,  where- 
ever  she  goes.  She  has  the  true  spirit." 

"Please  don't  praise  me,"  said  Esther.  "I 
wish  I  had  the  true  spirit !  But,  alas  !  I  feel  my 
weaknesses !  I  am  not  sufficiently  submissive, 
notwithstanding  all  that  God  has  done  for  me." 

"  We  are  all  wanting,  my  dear  !  "  said  Lucile. 
"  It  is  not  expected  that  any  one  should  be  perfect 
in  this  world.  Those  who  do  the  best  they  can, 
according  to  the  light  they  have,  are  good." 


RETROSPECTION.  185 

"  You  are  right,"  responded  Esther.  "  I  have 
had  much  light,  and  I  feel  that,  as  much  has  been 
given  me,  so  also  will  much  be  required  of  me. 
When  I  was  a  little  child  I  was  carefully  in- 
structed in  the  way  of  righteousness ;  my  years 
passed  pleasantly,  and  my  soul  was  at  ease.  I 
looked  forward  to  the  troubles  of  life  with  a  deter- 
mination to  live  above  them ;  but,  alas !  I  have 
not  borne  them  as  I  ought.  I  have  yet  to  learn 
that  it  is  good  for  me  to  be  afflicted  !  "  Here  she 
burst  into  tears,  and  both  Lucile  and  Grasiella 
caressed  and  comforted  her  in  the  most  affectionate 
manner. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Esther.  "  And,  as 
long  as  I  live  I  shall  have  this  pleasant  home  in 
remembrance.  It  has  been  to  me  like  the  ark 
of  safety." 

"  Yes,  weary  dove  !"  sang  Grasiella,  and  the 
little  ones  chimed  in.  0,  it  was  sweet  to  the 
ear !  Esther  thought  she  never  heard  anything 
so  sweet  before. 

That  night  Esther  called  to  mind  the  various 
little  expressions  her  father  had  used,  in  reference 
to  her.  during  his  last  sickness.  She  fancied  she 
16* 


186  SOLILOQUY. 

understood  his  trouble  and  anxiety  on  her  account, 
and  only  wondered  that  he  should  have,  at  length, 
concluded  to  send  her  to  her  grandfather.  "  Why 
did  he  not  tell  me  that  my  mother  was  black," 
thought  she.  "  Am  I  any  worse  for  being  so  ? 
Is  not  my  God  the  God  of  the  whites  also? 
Why  are  colored  people  despised?  Are  their 
souls  not  precious,  —  and  shall  a  jewel  be  valued 
only  by  the  color  of  its  case  ?  How  much  father 
\ised  to  say  against  slavery  !  Little  did  he  then 
think  that  his  only  child  might  one  day  be  taken 
for  a  slave,  and  be  obliged  to  hide  herself  in  a 
negro-hut,  to  preserve  her  freedom !  What 
changes  !  Who  could  believe  that  two  or  three 
years  could  bring  about  so  much  ?  I  have  been 
very  rich  and  very  poor ;  a  lady  and  a  beggar ; 
white,  and  now — just  what  I  was  before.  If  it 
is  my  destiny  to  live  with  those  people,  I  will  try 
to  be  good,  like  them.  I  wished  to  do  good  by 
coming  to  this  country ;  perhaps  this  is  to  be  my 
mission.  De  Lacy  !  Will  he  despise  me  ?  No, 
he  cannot !  He  is  too  generous.  But,  will  he 
feel  towards  me  as  he  used  to  do  ?  That  is  an- 
other thing.  It  may  be  that  he  thinks  blacks  and 


DOUBTFUL   PKOSPECTS.  187 

whites  should  not  intermingle  ;  but  he  is  not  like 
his  sister,  I  am  sure  he  is  not.  I  long  to  ask 
something  about  him.  If  I  live  till  morning,  I 
think  I  will.  How  kind  and  good  he  used  to  be  ! 
Dear  father  !  how  much  you  loved  him  !  You 
were  not  ashamed  to  take  a  black  woman  for  a 
wife  !  But  why  do  I  think  of  being  a  wife  now  ! 
No.  I  have  to  labor  for  my  fellow-creatures  in 
another  sphere.  God  help  me  to  be  brave  !  "  and 
she  wept  herself  to  sleep. 

Grasiella  had  occasion  to  go  into  her  room. 
She  heard  Esther  sigh  in  her  sleep,  and  gently 
kissed  her  cheek,  still  moist  with  tears.  When 
she  went  out  she  told  her  husband  that  she 
thought  he  would  do  well  to  get  her  conveyed  to 
her  grandfather's  as  soon  as  possible.  "  For," 
said  she,  "  the  poor  girl  will  feel  more  reconciled 
when  she  realizes  her  true  position." 

"She's  a  brave  young  woman,"  said  James; 
"  and  I  would  do  all  in  my  power  for  her,  even 
if  she  did  not  belong  to  good  Uncle  Lopez.  I  '11 
tell  you,  wife,  it  must  be  hard  for  one  like  her, 
who  has  believed  herself  white,  to  find  that  she  is 
a  negro.  I  do  pity  her  from  the  bottom  of  my 


188  SYMPATHY. 

heart.  And  I  'm  sure  she 's  a  good  Christian. 
Did  n't  you  hear  how  beautifully  she  talked  to 
little  Bill?  I  believe  he'll  remember  what  she 
told  him,  about  God  seeing  him  always,  as  long  as 
he  lives.  I  know  /  shall." 

"  She  is  good  and  kind,"  replied  the  wife. 
"  The  children  love  her  dearly.  She  seems  to 
love  them,  too.  I  thought  she  would  have  a  fit, 
laughing  so  hard,  to-day.  Billy  was  standing 
round  when  it  looked  dark,  just  before  the  shower, 
and  she  said  to  him,  '  Billy,  look  and  see  if  it 
rains.'  Billy  ran  to  the  door,  and  after  looking 
up,  and  stretching  out  his  little  hand,  he  ran  back, 
saying,  c  It  don't  rain  ;  it  only  leaks  a  little  ! ' 

"  I  will  see  what  we  can  do  about  taking  Esther, 
to-morrow,"  said  James,  after  a  few  moments' 
pause.  "  Lucile  thinks  it  best  to  paint  her  face ; 
it  would  save  a  world  of  trouble ;  but,  somehow,  I 
hate  to  ask  her  to  do  it.  And  —  " 

"  Let 's  wait  for  Lucile,"  interrupted  Grasiclla. 
"  She  has  such  a  nice  way  of  saying  what  is 
necessary.  I  do  think  she  is  a  remarkable  woman, 
if  she  is  my  sister." 

"Well  you  may  think  so.     Everybody  thinks 


STRANGE   PROPOSAL.  189 

SO.  She  is  on  the  look-out,  all  the  time,  to  help 
some  one,  and  seems  to  know  just  the  right  time 
to  act.  I  never  knew  a  person  so  quiet  as  she  is. 
If  any  one  talks  with  her,  she  appears  too  diffi- 
dent and  modest  to  say  much.  I  heard  Mr.  Keyes, 
the  keeper  of  the  tavern,  tell  a  gentleman  that  he 
did  not  think  he  could  keep  the  house  without 
her.  His  wife  depends  upon  her,  to  see  to  all 
that  is  going  on." 

"  We  never  know  when  to  stop  talking  about 
her,"  murmured  the  sister,  and  fell  asleep. 

A  little  after  daybreak,  Lucile  came,  saying 
that  she  had  leave  of  absence  for  the  day,  and 
would  assist  in  doing  James'  work  while  he  took 
Esther  to  her  friends.  She  then  awoke  the  young 
woman,  and  told  her  what  arrangements  she  had 
made,  and  advised,  as  a  safe  and  convenient  means 
of  taking  her,  that  she  should  allow  her  face  to  be 
painted  black. 

Poor  Esther  !  This  proposition  was  an  unex- 
pected blow.  How  could  she  change  the  face 
which  God  had  given  her?  It  was  long  before 
she  could  consent  to  it.  At  length,  necessity 
constrained,  and,  as  she  cast  her  eyes  in  the  glass, 


190  A   NEW   FACE. 

she  drew  back  and  shuddered.  Lucile  saw  it. 
"Alas,  Esther ! "  said  she,  "do  you,  too,  feel  it 
a  degradation  to  be  black  1 " 

"  No,  no,  my  good  friend !  "  answered  the 
excited  girl;  "that  is  not  the  feeling.  I  know 
not  what  it  is.  I  cannot  analyze  it." 

Many  were  the  kind  words  and  tender  admoni- 
tions of  the  two  women,  as  they  took  leave  of  her, 
and  good  the  resolutions  of  the  latter  to  live  as 
before  God,  and  not  in  the  sight  of  men. 

She  had  hardly  been  on  board  the  boat  two 
hours  when  she  had  cause  to  thank  God  that  he 
had  put  it  into  the  mind  of  Lucile  to  paint  her 
face  black.  There  sat  Mrs.  Tincum  and  Sarah 
Be  Lacy,  and  she  plainly  heard  them  talking  of 
her. 

"  Do  tell  me  how  they  came  so  reduced  !  "  said 
Mrs.  Tincum.' 

"  I  understand  that  M.  Le  Gendre  had  been 
living  on  the  property  of  an  individual,  a  distant 
relative,  who  was  in  a  foreign  country,  and  had 
been  prevented,  by  sickness,  fro^  asserting  hia 
rights,  and  that  monsieur  was  obliged  to  flee  hia 
country,  with  his  proud  daughter,  on  the  old 


THE  MEETING.  191 

gentleman's  appearance,  to  prevent  legal  interfer- 
ence," replied  Sarah,  tossing  her  head. 

Esther's  blood  boiled,  and  her  eyes  flashed. 
James  beckoned  her  out  of  hearing,  and  whispered 
in  her  ear  the  magic  word  " Patience" 

Two  days  after,  she  met  her  grandfather,  a 
healthy  negro  of  about  seventy,  who  welcomed 
her  with  open  arms,  and,  placing  her  in  an  odd 
carriage,  drawn  by  mules,  he  seated  himself  at  her 
side,  and,  as  they  rode  leisurely  along,  engaged 
her  in  sprightly  conversation,  so  that  by  the  time 
she  reached  the  house  she  almost  forgot  her 
painted  face,  and  that  she  was,  henceforth,  to  be 
among  the  degraded  children  of  Ham. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

D3  LACY  AND  HIS  COUSIN. 

Louis  DE  LACY,  having  learned  that  Esther 
Sailed  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Brown,  obtained  his 
address,  and  immediately  followed  on  to  Savannah. 
He  arrived  at  Keyes'  Hotel  the  very  day  Esther 
left  for  her  grandfather's.  Mr.  Keyes  gave 
him  all  the  information  he  could  respecting  the 
girl  brought  there  by  Mr.  Brown,  and  of  her 
sudden  disappearance,  beyond  which  he  knew 
nothing. 

De  Lacy  was  now  at  a  stand,  and,  for  the  first 
time,  considerably  disheartened.  Miss  G.  had  lost 
the  grandfather's  name.  This  was  irreparable. 
Should  he  go  to  Mr.  Brown,  he  could  not  expect 
satisfaction  from  so  unprincipled  a  man.  Esther 
had  promised  to  write  to  Miss  G. ;  but  where  was 
that  dear  child  ?  Could  it  be  that  some  one  had 
stolen  her  1  He  felt  that  it  was  not  so.  A  ray 
of  hope  flashed  across  his  mind.  "  God  has  mys- 


DE  LACY'S  RETURN.  193 

teriously  snatched  her  from  the  grasp  of  the 
destroyer,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  My  beloved, 
rest  in  peace  !  There  shall  not  a  hair  of  her  head 
perish.  Not  a  sparrow  falls  without  the  Father's 
permission." 

These  consolatory  truths  encouraged  the  young 
man,  and  he  wrote  to  Miss  G.  and  the  deacon, 
requesting  their  opinion  and  advice ;  then  returned 
to  his  own  home  to  await  God's  providence.  His 
people  were  rejoiced  to  see  him.  Each  one  seemed 
anxious  to  render  an  account  of  his  stewardship, 
and  proud  of  the  just  commendation  which  he 
received  for  his  fidelity.  Not  one  among  them 
all  had  failed  to  do  his  best  to  please  so  kind  a 
master.  In  leaving  them  to  themselves,  De  Lacy 
had  felt  that  he  was  making  an  experiment ;  and, 
now  that  it  had  so  well  succeeded,  his  heart  was 
filled  with  gratitude.  Calling  them  together,  he 
thanked  them  for  the  assistance  they  had  rendered 

• 

him,  and,  kneeling  with  them  before  the  family 
altar,  they  poured  out  the  incense  of  praise  to- 
gether, as  from  one  fountain  of  pure  love. 

His  business  \vas  in  order  ;  his  people  diligent 
and  faithful,  and  there  remained  little  for  him  to 
17  M 


194  A  PLOT. 

do  with  his  own  hands ;  but  his  mind  was  fully 
occupied.  Esther  was  ever  present  to  him ;  in  his 
walks,  at  his  meals,  by  the  sick-bed  of  some  poor 
negro,  or  teaching  the  way  of  peace,  he  seemed 
to  feel  her  influence.  "  Where  can  she  be  ?  "  he 
would  often  say  aloud. 

One  day  his  aunt  sent  for  him  in  haste. 

"Louis,"  said  she,  "is  it  true  that  you  are 
engaged  to  be  married  ?  " 

"lam." 

"And  to  whom?" 

"A  young  lady  in  Paris." 

"  What  did  you  tell  me  ?  "  said  she,  turning  to 
Sarah. 

"  That  Louis  was  engaged  to  a  colored  woman." 

"  'T  is  false  !  "  exclaimed  the  indignant  young 
man.  "  I  never  had  such  a  thought.  Not  that  I 
do  not  think  a  negress  preferable  to  many  white 
ladies,"  — and  here  he  gave  Sarah  such  a  look  as 
she  well  understood,  —  "but  that  my  heart  has 
long  been  betrothed." 

"  Will  you  promise,"  said  his  aunt,  "that  you 
do  not  intend  to  marry  any  black  person  about 


A  PLOT.  195 

here,  —  that  you  will  not?"  pursued  the  wicked 
woman. 

"  Certainly,  I  will ;  upon  the  word  of  a  man  of 
honor." 

"That  is  all  I  want,  said  his  aunt.  "I  am 
going  to  Europe  to  spend  a  few  months,  and  I 
wish  to  prepare  for  accidents,  or  sudden  death. 
You  know  that  I  purpose  to  give  you  two-thirds 
of  my  property ;  but  if  you  disgrace  the  family  by 
an  improper  matrimonial  alliance,  you  will  for- 
feit all  claims  to  any  of  my  possessions.  I  do  not 
know  how  Sarah  could  have  told  me  such  a 
strange  story  about  you." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  justify  myself,  aunt,  but  you 
will  see  for  yourself,  and  before  long,  or  I  am 
mistaken." 

Louis  was  now  completely  entrapped.  He  had 
not  thought  of  Esther  in  connection  with  the 
blacks,  and  was  astonished  at  the  effrontery  of  his 
cousin's  remarks.  She,  on  the  contrary,  had  had 
the  whole  story  as  a  secret  from  her  friend,  Mrs. 
Brown,  who  knew  Gaetano  Lopez,  had  heard  the 
story  of  his  eldest  daughter,  who  was  a  handsome 
young  lady,  marrying  a  count,  and  going  to 


196  AN   ACCIDENT. 

France ;  and  thus  she  saw  the  whole  at  a  glance. 
Fearful  that  Louis  would  meet  or  see  her  in  some 
way,  she  determined  to  prejudice  her  aunt,  and 
thus  throw  a  barrier  in  the  way  of  her  cousin's 
happiness.  She  was  conscious  that  he  never 
would  marry  her,  and  she  meant  to  prevent  his 
marrying  Esther,  if  possible. 

After  Louis  left  his  aunt  he  began  to  ponder 
upon  the  intentions  of  his  cousin.  "  She  has  some 
mischief  in  hand,"  thought  he.  "  No  doubt  she 
is  plotting  against  me,  but  I  will  be  upon  my 
guard." 

At  twilight  of  the  same  day  he  was  going 
quickly  down  a  flight  of  steps,  which  led  into  the 
garden,  whither  he  was  attracted  by  the  cry  of  an 
animal  in  distress,  when  his  foot  slipped,  and  he 
fell,  badly  spraining  his  ankle.  He  was  taken  to 
his  chamber,  and  ordered  to  remain  perfectly  quiet 
for  some  weeks.  This  was  a  drawback  to  his 
plans  for  finding  Esther.  Though  he  returned 
home  with  a  determination  to  await  God's  provi- 
dence, he  was  not  one  of  those  who  sit  idle,  ex- 
pecting miracles  in  their  favor.  He  knew  that 
'  God  helps  him  who  helps  himself,"  and  trusted 


TRAITS   OP   SLAVERY.  197 

to  be  guided  by  the  good  Spirit,  in  his  inquiries 
of  every  family  in  and  about  the  city.  It  was  no 
easy  or  agreeable  task,  as  it  had  thus  far  proved  ; 
for  every  one  wished  to  know  who  and  what  the 
young  female  could  be,  in  whom  he  was  so  much 
interested.  Then  he  had  no  clue  to  her  being 
there,  and  how  could  he  expect  her  relations,  if  he 
succeeded  in  finding  them,  should  know  where  she 
was  ?  If  Sarah  discovered  what  his  projects  were, 
would  she  not  make  trouble  for  him,  and  might 
she  not  even  thwart  him  in  his  endeavors  1 

"  'T  is  hard  to  be  obliged  to  lie  here,"  said  he. 
"But,  no  doubt,  'tis  all  for  the  best.  Some 
good  will  certainly  come  of  it,  if  I  do  my  duty." 

Sarah's  aunt  left,  as  was  proposed,  and,  for 
some  months,  she  remained  mistress  of  the  estab- 
lishment. Bitter  were  the  complaints  she  was 
continually  making  to  Louis  of  the  bad  conduct 
of  her  household.  "  'T  is  impossible  to  live  in 
peace  with  them,"  she  would  often  say.  "  They 
are  thieves  and  liars.  My  aunt  has  spoiled  them 
by  indulgence ;  but  I  '11  try  to  teach  them  some- 
thing before  she  comes  back." 

"  How  will  you  teach  them? "  asked  Louis. 
16* 


198  TRAITS   OF  SLAVERY. 

"How?  They'll  catch  it,  I  guess!  Only 
yesterday  that  saucy  Cleora  took  such  a  lashing 
as  tamed  her  a  little  !  I  was  so  vexed  that  I 
really  enjoyed  looking  on  to  see  her  beaten  —  " 

"  Cruel,  wicked  woman  !  "  interrupted  Louis. 

"  'T  is  easy  for  you  to  say  that ;  you,  who  have 
had  no  experience.  You  chance  to  be  with  a  set 
of  worn-out  old  creatures,  whose  mettle  has  been 
brought  down  long  ago.  Besides,  they  see  how 
careless  you  are  of  your  property,  and  they  mean 
to  feather  their  own  nests,  no  doubt.  Aunt  said 
't  was  foolish  in  you  to  free  the  best  you  had,  and 
keep  such  poor  ones  about  you." 

"  Did  aunt  say  that  ?" 

"To  be  sure  she  did.  Do  you  doubt  my 
word?" 

"  Sarah,  you  ask  a  serious  question.  Kemem- 
ber  that  we  are  in  the  sight  of  Him,  who  knows 
the  very  thoughts  of  our  hearts,  and  tell  me,  if  I 
have  not  reason  to  doubt  your  word." 

"  I  don't  understand  your  reasoning.  I  reason 
to  suit  myself,  and  suppose  everybody  else  does 
the  same.  You  are  always  talking  about  God. 
What  do  you  suppose  he  cares  about  you  or  me, 


KINDNESS  AND   CRUELTY.  199 

or  our  blacks  ?  Cleora  prayed  him  hard  enough 
yesterday  to  prevent  her  being  flogged ;  but  I 
did  n't  see  that  he  interfered,  or  that  she  screamed 
any  the  less  because  she  's  so  pious." 

"  Sarah !  Sarah  !  are  you  such  a  monster  ? 
Alas  !  that  we  should  belong  to  the  same  family, 
and  I  have  not  been  able  to  improve  you.  I  fear 
that  you  will  meet  with  some  terrible  calamity. 
The  wicked  may  not  always  prosper;  there  will 
be  a  day  of  retribution.  Every  blow  that  you 
have  so  inhumanly  inflicted  on  the  poor  wretches 
in  your  power,  will  be  repeated  with  tenfold  sever- 
ity, lacerating  your  soul,  unless  you  repent  and 
turn  from  your  wickedness." 

"Well,  that's  more  of  a  sermon  than  I've 
heard  this  long  time !  Hope  you  won't  feel  it  a 
duty  to  pray  for  some  terrible  thing  to  happen  to 


me 


"  How  can  you  be  so  thoughtless,  and  talk  so 
lightly  of  your  spiritual  welfare  ?  Tell  me  if  you 
are  happy." 

"  0,  now  you  touch  upon  a  subject  which  con- 
cerns yourself !  If  I  am  not  happy,  you  know 
whose  fault  it  is." 


200  A  DARK  SPIRIT. 

"It  is  your  own  fault,  and  not  that  of  any 
other.  You  have  ability  and  means  of  being  a 
useful  and  profitable  member  of  society  ;  and  you 
have  never  tried  to  use  them.  As  far  as  I  know, 
you  have  studied  only  your  own  interests,  and 
how  can  you  expect  to  be  happy,  or  even  at  peace 
within  yourself?  Take  my  advice,  cousin;  try  to 
be  kind  to  those  poor  creatures  about  you.  Gain 
their  aflections ;  improve  their  intellects,  at  least, 
if  you  cannot  cultivate  their  hearts.  Occupy 
yourself  constantly,  — read,  meditate  and  pray." 

"You  may  do  the  praying,  if  you  believe  in  it. 
I  think  I  have  a  more  exalted  idea  of  God  than 
you  have.  I  don't  think  he  changes  his  plans, 
and  the  natural  laws  he  has  established,  to  please 
every  praying  man  and  woman." 

"  Do  not  speak  so,  I  beg  of  you.  It  pains  me 
to  hear  you  talk  so  mockingly.  No  one  ever  pre- 
tends that  God  changes  his  all- wise  plans.  We 
pray  for  strength  and  courage  to  bear  what  is  our 
lot.  The  physical  strength  is  sometimes  unequal 
to  the  struggles  we  are  called  upon  to  endure ;  but, 
though  nature  may  cry  out,  the  soul  is  immova- 
ble. If  your  Clcora  be  a  Christian,  she  will  not 


POOR   CLEORA.  201 

cease  to  pray,  though,  she  was  beaten.  Poor  girl ! 
I  wish  I  could  see  her  and  talk  with  her.  Will 
you  not  do  me  the  favor  to  lend  he>  services  while 
I  am  lame  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  could  spare  her." 
"  I  thought  she  troubled  you,  and  you  would 
like  to  be  rid  of  her,"  said  De  Lacy. 

"  So  I  would,  if  I  could  find  any  one  to  fill 
her  place.  She  never  disappoints  me  when  she 
promises  to  do  a  thing.  I  complained  of  her  being 
saucy." 

"  Pray  tell  me  what  you  call  saucy." 
"  Why,  she  will  go  away  and  stay  two  or  three 
hours  at  a  time,  and,  when  I  ask  her  where  she 
goes,  she  absolutely  refuses  to  tell.  A  few  days 
ago  she  was  singing  a  favorite  French  air :  I 
asked  her  where  she  learned  it.  At  first  she 
begged  to  be  excused  from  telling ;  then  said  she 
would  not,  unless  aunt  obliged  her  to.  I  told  her 
that  aunt  left  me  in  her  stead,  and  that  she  must 
mind  me ;  at  which  she  gave  me  such  a  look  —  the 
hussy  !  —  as  made  my  blood  boil." 

"And  so  you  had  her  severely  punished  for 
it?" 


202  PASSIOX'S  VICTIM. 

"  To  be  sure  I  did  ;  and  will  again,  till  I  teach 
her  how  to  treat  her  superiors." 

"I  do  wish  you  would  send  her  here  for  a 
while." 

"  Well,  if  you  will  promise  to  keep  her  at 
work,  and  be  very  strict  with  her,  she  may 
come." 

"  Now,  one  thing  more,  Sarah.  Will  you  read 
that  little  book  on  the  table?  I  think  't  will  please 
you." 

She  took  it  up,  read  the  title,  "  The  Way  to  be 
Happy,"  and,  yawning,  laid  it  down,  saying,  "  'T  is 
too  religious.  I  '11  wait  till  I  'm  older  before  I 
read  such  serious  works." 

The  next  day  Cleora  came  to  De  Lacy's.  She 
was  a  remarkably  handsome  mulattress.  with  a 
bright,  intelligent  countenance.  But  her  look 
was  sad,  and  her  bandaged  arms  and  swollen  neck 
bespoke  the  cruelties  of  her  mistress. 

As  she  approached  the  bed.  Louis  extended  his 
hand,  saying,  "lam  very  glad  you  have  come. 
I  trust  we  shall  mutually  benefit  each  other. 
From  what  I  hear  of  you,  I  feel  convinced  that 


THE  SLAVE'S  MISERY.  203 

you  will  be  happy,  at  least  while  you  stay 
here." 

"Happy,  sir!"  said  she,  respectfully.  "Hap- 
py I  can  never  be  in  slavery  !  My  heavenly 
Father  made  his  children  equal.  What  is  the 
difference  between  me  and  Sarah  De  Lacy,  except 
that  I  would  not  treat  the  vilest  creature  living  as 
shf  treats  me,  treats  all  of  us  ?  Look  at  these 
wounds,  and  tell  me  if  I  can  be  happy  in  expect- 
ation of  the  like,  if  I  but  look  contrary  to  the 
wishes  of  a  mistress  —  a  tyrant,  I  should  say." 

"The  whole  system  of  slavery  is  an  abomina- 
tion, which  I  abhor  as  much  as  you  can,  and 
would  gladly  do  anything  in  my  power  to  oblit- 
erate it  from  the  recollection  of  mankind.  God 
grant  that  the  time  may  come  when  such  a  word 
as  slave  will  be  unknown  !  " 

"You  speak  like  a  Christian,"  interrupted 
Cleora.  "Yet,  why  do  you.  with  such  principles, 
hold  men  in  bondage  1  Are  not  you  a  slave- 
holder ?  Do  they  not  call  you  master  ?  " 

"In  one  sense  I  am  a  slave-holder,  for  my 
people  will  not  accept  their  liberty.  Yet  they 
are  free  to  act  for  themselves  individually.  We 


204  HAPPY  HOUSEHOLD. 

are  a  well-regulated  household.  With  us  there  i3 
nothing  compulsory.  Ask  my  people  ;  let  them 
speak  for  themselves.  As  to  calling  me  master, 
't  is  a  habit,  a  word  without  meaning  among 
them.  I  am  a  brother,  a  teacher,  a  minister  of 
Christ." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

ESTHER    WITH    HER    RELATIVES. 

ESTHER  was  cordially  welcomed  by  several 
grown  people,  —  some  very  black,  some  whiter, 
but  none  so  white  as  herself.  These  were  her 
uncles  and  aunts.  It  was  evening  when  she  ar- 
rived, and  being  fatigued  she  soon  retired.  In 
the  morning,  when  she  appeared  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  one  would  have  compared  her  to  a  "  white 
lily  in  a  bunch  of  violets."  Her  grandfather 
could  not  keep  his  eyes  from  her  face ;  and  his 
pleasant  and  cheerful  countenance  soothed  her  into 
a  quiet  feeling,  to  which  she  had  long  been  a 
stranger.  She  looked  around ;  there  was  an  air 
of  ease  and  plenty.  On  every  side  she  met  smil- 
ing countenances. 

"How  pretty  she  is  !"  said  a  little  coal-black 
urchin,  smoothing  her  arm. 

"  What  makes  she  so  white  1 "  said  another. 
18 


206  ESTHER'S  MOTHER. 

"  Grandpa,  grandpa  !  "  said  a  third,  ''  is  this 
the  aunty  you  said  -was  drowned  in  sea  ?  " 

"  No,  child,  ?t  is  that  aunty's  baby." 

"How  much  she  is  like  her  mother ! "  observed 
one  of  the  women.  "  I  should  have  known  her 
anywhere." 

"  If  she  is  as  good  she  will  make  us  all  happy," 
said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Do  tell  me  all  about  my  mother,"  said 
Esther.  "I  could  never  get  my  father  to  speak 
of  her." 

"Because  she  was  colored,  I  suppose,"  replied 
Mr.  Lopez,  seriously.  "Yet  he  loved  her  very 
tenderly." 

"  Indeed  he  did.  I  think  he  did  not  like  to 
speak  of  her  because  it  made  him  sad." 

"Esther,  my  child,  there  is  a  prejudice  against 
us.  The  whites  feel  themselves  our  superiors.  I 
was  surprised  when  your  father  asked  my  daugh- 
ter's hand  in  marriage.  I  refused,  for  I  saw  that 
her  position  in  society  would  render  her  unhappy 
even  with  a  loving  husband.  He  ur^ed  his  suit. 

o  O 

He  said  he  would  live  in  France,  where  the  people 
are  more  generous  and  more  just  than  here.     I 


HER  GRANDFATHER.          207 

consented  to  part  with  my  darling,  and  they  sailed 
for  France.  You  were  given  to  them,  and  she 
was  taken  away.  I  was  almost  heartbroken  when 
I  heard  the  news  of  her  death  ;  but  God  has  been, 
merciful,  and  given  me  more  sons  and  daughters 
in  her  stead.  Esther,  we  are  your  colored  rela- 
tives, 't  is  true ;  but  our  hearts  are  warm,  and  our 
love  as  pure  as  the  white  man's.  Can  you,  will 
you  be  happy  to  stay  with  and  love  us  ?  Your 
father  requests  in  his  letter  that  you  may  go  back 
to  France  whenever  you  desire  it.  I  will  not 
contradict  his  dying  wish." 

"You  are  very,  very  kind,  my  dear  grand- 
father. I  feel,  I  trust,  that  I  shall  soon  be  a 
happy  member  of  this  happy  family.  I  hope  that 
you  will  allow  me  to  make  myself  useful.  I  have 
always  been  accustomed  to  labor  in  some  way  or 
another  for  the  good  of  others." 

"By  all  means,  Esther.  It  is  a  rule  of  our 
household  that  every  one  shall  be  fully  occupied. 
Though  we  appear  to  have  plenty  of  help,  and 
would  be  glad  to  wait  upon  you,  yet  we  shall 
leave  you  to  do  just  as  you  please.  This  house 
and  we  who  are  here  are  at  your  disposal ;  and 


208  FAMILY  WORSHIP. 

any  arrangement  that  you  can  make,  -which  -will 
contribute  to  your  happiness,  we  are  ready  to 
comply  with.  Your  dear  mother  used  to  read  to 
us  every  morning  and  evening ;  perhaps  you 
will  do  the  same.  We  can  read,  some  of  us,  but 
not  very  well." 

"  I  will  do  the  best  I  can ;  but  my  English  is 
not  good.  Do  you  understand  French  ?  " 

"  Not  all  of  us.  We  should  prefer  the  Eng- 
lish," said  he,  and  handed  her  the  old  family 
Bible. 

Esther  breathed  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  that 
she  was  with  godly  people.  She  opened  the  New 
Testament  at  the  first  epistle  of  John,  and  read 
the  third  chapter,  in  a  sweet  tone.  All  listened 
attentively.  It  was  a  pleasing  sight.  The  room 
was  large  and  neatly  furnished.  Gay  flowers 
were  its  chief  ornament.  A  few  pictures  deco- 
rated the  walls.  The  table  stood  in  the  centre ; 
grandfather  in  his  large  arm-chair,  with  gray  hair 
and  beard,  and  the  beautiful  Esther  at  his  side. 
Around  the  table,  different  shades  of  dark  color, 
and,  standing  in  quiet  and  listening  attitude,  nu- 
merous domestics,  men,  women  and  children,  old 


NEW  DEVELOPMENTS.  209 

and  young ;  some  fantastically  dressed  in  gay 
colors,  some  in  pure  white,  with  high  turbans  on 
their  heads,  and  the  little  ones  with  just  a  simple 
garment  thrown  over  to  cover  their  nudity. 

From  time  to  time  the  old  patriarch  made  some 
observation  on  the  words  read.  At  the  close  of 
the  reading  they  all  sang  a  monotonous  kind  of 
chant ;  and  then,  after  mutual  leave-taking  and 
many  looks  of  curiosity  and  pleasure  cast  at 
Esther,  they  went  quietly  their  several  ways. 

A  cabriolet  was  brought  to  the  door,  and  Esther 
again  seated  by  her  grandfather,  who  wished  to 
show  her  his  property.  She  was  delighted  with 
the  luxuriance  of  the  vegetation,  and  the  taste 
displayed  in  the  laying  out  of  the  grounds. 
She  observed  that  many  things  reminded  her  of 
France. 

"No  doubt,"  said  the  grandfather;  "for  my 
master,  from  whom  I  learned  all  that  I  know  of 
horticulture,  and  everything  else  I  may  say,  was 
a  Frenchman." 

"  Your  master,  did  you  say  ? "  exclaimed 
Esther. 

"  Yes,  my  child,  I  was  a  slave  ;  but  happily  a 
18*  N 


210  NEW  DEVELOPMENTS. 

slave  to  one  of  the  best  of  men,  who  became  much 
attached  to  me,  and  treated  me  like  a  child  ;  and, 
at  his  death,  he  gave  me  my  freedom,  and  more 
than  half  of  his  property.  This  house  and  all  the 
land  as  far  west  as  that  large,  white  mansion,  was 
his  property." 

"  Who  lives  in  the  white  house  1 "  asked 
Esther. 

"Madame  De  Lacy,"  was  the  answer. 

"Is  that  the  one  who  treated  Grasiella  so 
badly?" 

"No,  'tis  her  brother's  widow.  She,  too,  is  a 
cruel  woman.  '  I  'm  mistaken,  though ;  she  died  a 
short  time  ago.  She  had  a  son,  who  was  too  fond 
of  travelling  to  stay  at  home.  They  say  he  went 
away  as  soon  as  his  mother  died.  I  'm  not  ac- 
quainted with  him,. but  I  Jve  heard  many  stories 
about  him." 

Poor  Esther's  heart  beat  violently;  and  she 
wished  to  ask  more,  but  dared  not  speak  for  fear 
of  betraying  her  emotion.  After  a  few  moments' 
pause,  her  grandfather  continued  : 

"I  have  been  prospered  in  all  that  I  have 
undertaken.  God  has  blessed  me  beyond  meas- 


UNEXPECTED  SIGHT.  211 

ore.  Now  that  I  have  you  with  me,  I  feel  that 
my  cup  of  mercies  is  full.  I  am  an  old  man, 
child,  and  cannot  expect  to  see  this  bright  earth 
much  longer ;  yet  I  fear  not  to  depart  and  meet 
my  brothers,  black  and  white,  beyond  the  grave, 
where  all  are  equal." 

They  had  now  approached  the  white  house,  and 
Esther  saw  many  people  on  the  grounds,  and,  at  a 
distance,  a  gentleman  and  lady.  She  asked, 
timidly,  who  they  were. 

"I  believe  that  is  young  De  Lacy  and  his 
cousin  Sarah.  I  suppose  they  are  to  be  married 
soon.  She  is  handsome,  but  too  wicked  to  be  a 
good  wife." 

Esther  sighed  heavily. 

"  I  see  you  are  a  tender-hearted  child.  I  fear 
you  will  see  and  hear  much  to  disturb  your  feel- 
ings ;  it  must  always  be  so  where  there  are  slaves. 
You  will  have  a  fine  opportunity  of  doing  good 
among  them." 

She  did  not  answer.  She  strained  her  eyes  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  De  Lacy.  His  back  was 
towards  her.  She  thought  she  heard  his  voice  as 
he  turned  and  entered  the  house.  She  sighed, 


212  A   CONFLICT. 

and  the  tears  chased  each  other  silently  down  her 
cheeks.  Hard  was  the  struggle  to  become  calm 
and  cheerful.  Once  or  twice  she  almost  wished 
that  she  could  hear  something  that  would  disgust 
her,  that  she  might  the  more  easily  drive  him 
from  her  thoughts.  "  But,"  said  she,  "  he  was  so 
good !  He  must  still  be  good !  It  is  evident  that 
grandfather  knows  but  little  about  him." 

"  How  quiet  you  are,  child !  Don't  you  like 
this  drive  ?  " 

"  0,  yes,  sir !  very  much.  I  was  think- 
ing  —  " 

"  Thinking  what,  my  child  ?  " 

"  About  the  De  Lacys." 

"  You  are,  like  all  other  girls,  inquisitive,  I 
see.  I  suppose  you  don't  expect  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  them.  They  would  no  more  associ- 
ate with  us  than  with  their  cattle." 

"  Pray,  why  not  ?  "  said  Esther,  eagerly. 

"What  a  question!  Well,  I  see  you  have  to 
learn  that  it  is  one  thing  to  be  white,  and  another 
black." 

"  I  shall  try  not  to  care  anything  about  it;  but 


GENEROUS  RESOLVE.  213 

to  direct  all  my  efforts  to  the  good  of  people  of 
my  own  color." 

"  That  is  right.  Then  you  will  do  good  to  all 
mankind,  for  you  are  white  enough  for  the  whites, 
and  black  enough  for  us."  And  the  old  man 
laughed  as  he  patted  Esther  on  the  shoulder. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

ESTHER   IN  HER  LOWLY  HOME. 

DINNER  was  served  in  good  style,  but  Esther 
*ould  eat  none.  She  complained  of  headache,  and 
begged  to  be  left  to  the  quiet  of'her  own  chamber. 
When  alone,  she  wept  and  prayed.  She  accused 
herself  of  ingratitude  to  that  gracious  Father,  who 
had  snatched  her  from  the  hand  of  the  wicked, 
and  placed  her  among  kind  friends,  in  a  land 
flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  She  begged  to  be 
forgiven,  with  the  earnestness  of  a  sincere  peni- 
tent. She  looked  at  herself;  she  thought  she 
saw  that  there  was  but  little  difference  between 
her  and  her  friends  ;  she  was  humbled  and 
grieved  to  think  that  she  had  feared  to  be  called 
a  negress.  "Alas!"  sighed  she;  "who  will 
sympathize  with  and  counsel  me  ?  I  am  weak, 
too  weak  to  depend  upon  myself.  Dear  father ! 
kind  friends,  who  used  to  guide  my  wandering 
feet !  may  I  not  now  address  you  ?  Yes,  yes !  If 


CONTENTMENT.  215 

I  live  till  to-morrow,  I  will  write  to  Mr.  Day,  and 
to  Miss  G.  I  can  find  work  to  take  me  from  my 
sad  thoughts.  I  will  overcome  this  weakness. 
De  Lacy  !  De  Lacy  !  I  '11  not  disturb  your  peace. 
If  Sarah  is  destined  for  you,  God  grant  that  you 
may  both  be  happy  !  " 

Then  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed,  and  wept 
again.  After  a  while,  nature  was  exhausted,  and 
she  fell  into  a  deep  sleep,  from  which  she  was  not 
aroused  by  her  aunt  coming  into  her  chamber  and 
putting  things  in  order  for  the  night. 

When  she  awoke,  the  moon  was  shining 
brightly.  Her  head  was  clear,  and  her  mind 
calm.  She  sat  down  at  an  open  window,  where 
the  perfume  of  the  orange-flower  was  wafted,  by 
gentle  breezes,  to  her.  The  rays  of  the  moon 
were  dancing  and  sparkling  in  the  gushing  foun- 
tain ;  while,  now  and  then,  a  whistle  or  hum  of 
negro  voice  broke  the  silence  of  the  evening 
hour. 

"  How  beautiful !  "  exclaimed  Esther.  "  This 
is  now  to  be  my  own  dear  home  !  I  will  not  be  a 
shadow  where  all  is  so  bright !  To-morrow  I  '11 
begin  to  make  myself  useful  in  some  way.  I  can 


216  THE   SIGH   OF  THE  SLAVE. 

read,  —  that  will  please  all  the  family.  Then, 
perhaps,  I  can  teach  the  children,  and  do  some 
light  things  ahout  the  house  ;  and  I  can  take  care 
of  the  plants.  I  will  get  grandfather  to  buy  me  a 
pianoforte,  and  some  music,  and  I  will  study  so  as 
to  teach  them  all  to  sing.  Music  will  be  a  great 
thing  for  us  here.  I  can  never  forget  my  music- 
teacher,  but  I  must  try  to  bury  him  in  my  heart. 
I  hope  I  shall  not  see  him.  It  is  well  for  me 
that  there  is  no  communication  between  the  fam- 
ilies. Who  knows  but  that  he  thinks  me  dead  1 
Well,  I  am,  as  it  were,  dead  to  him." 

Just  then  the  sound  of  voices,  beneath  the  win- 
dow attracted  her  attention.  She  looked  out; 
there  were  a  man  and  woman,  seated  upon  a  bank, 
in  earnest  conversation. 

"  I  cannot  live  so  much  longer.  My  patience 
will  not  hold  out,"  said  the  woman,  mournfully. 

"  Dear,  good  Cleora  !  try,  for  my  sake,  a  little 
longer.  I  am  getting  along  nicely,  and  shall  soon 
have  money  enough  to  buy  your  freedom.  Master 
Lopez  helps  me.  He  says  that  he  will  go  to  the 
old  lady,  the  first  chance  he  has,  when  her  niece 
is  out  of  the  way,  so  that  he  can  make  a  trade  for 


BEADING  THE   BIBLE.  217 

us.     How  I  wish  that  I  could  change  places  with 
you,  we  are  so  happy  here  !  " 

"  Alas  !  "  replied  the  woman,  "we  are  abused 
beyond  measure.  Our  overseer  is  cruel  enough, 
but  cannot  compare  with  Sarah.  I  have  hardly  a 
moment  to  myself.  This  visit  I  take  from  the  few 
hours'  rest  allotted  me.  And  once  or  twice  she 
has  missed  me,  and  tried  to  find  out  where  I  go. 
I  dare  not  tell,  lest  I  be  deprived  entirely  of  see- 
ing you." 

"  We  must  contrive  to  have  you  more  with  us," 
said  the  man.  "  A  white  lady  is  here.  They 
say  she  is  master's  grandchild.  She  reads  to  us. 
0,  you  must  hear  her !  'T  would  do  your  soul 
good!" 

"  I  should  be  so  glad  to  hear  reading,  —  to  learn 
to  read  myself.  Sometimes,  when  I  am  sorely 
vexed,  I  keep  my  tongue  still  by  thinking  of  the 
passages  of  Scripture  you  have  taught  me." 

"  Can't  you  steal  away  in  the  morning  without 
being  missed  1  I  will  come  and  do  your  work." 

"  Perhaps  I  can.     Sarah  De  Lacy  never  rises 
till  almost  noon ;  and  we  are  all  friendly,  and  try 
to  help  each  other." 
19 


218  A   RECOGNITION. 

"Good!  "said  Esther,  to  herself.  "I  must 
befriend  this  Cleora.  What  is  my  misfortune 
compared  with  hers  1  "  And,  trembling  at  the 
thought  that  she,  too,  might  have  been  a  slave, 
she  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  offered  a  heartfelt 
tribute  of  gratitude  to  the  great  Invisible,  who 
mysteriously  guides  us  through  the  varied  paths 
of  life. 

At  sunrise  the  next  morning  she  was  up,  and, 
to  use  her  own  expression,  ready  for  action.  She 
had  fortified  herself  by  prayer,  and  felt  strong  to 
contend  with  the  rebellious  feelings  of  her  own 
heart.  Outwardly,  there  was  nothing  to  trouble 
her,  and  to  govern  herself  would,  henceforth,  be 
the  great  object  of  her  solicitude. 

"  Bless  you,  Esther,  dear !  how  pale  you 
look  ! "  exclaimed  her  affectionate  grandparent. 
"Are  you  sick?" 

"0,  no  !  "  said  she,  with  a  cheerful  and  assur- 
ing smile,  which  at  once  dissipated  his  solicitude. 

When  the  servants  collected  to  hear  the  read- 
ing of  the  Bible,  Esther  looked  inquiringly  for  a 
new  comer.  There  was  a  face  she  had  not  seen 
before,  and  she  involuntarily  gave  a  nod  of  recogni- 


MUSIC.  219 

tion,  -which  was  responded  to  with  an  ease  and 
elegance  which  might  have  graced  a  princess. 

After  they  had  left  the  room,  M.  Lopez  asked 
Esther  what  he  could  do  for  her  pleasure  or 
happiness,  and  she  promptly  and  frankly  told 
him  that  she  wished  a  piano-forte  and  music,  as 
soon  as  he  could  conveniently  procure  them. 

"What  will  become  of  grandfather?"  said  one 
of  the  daughters.  "  He  is  always  in  ecstasy  at  the 
sound  of  music.  What  will  he  do  if  you  are  a 
musician?" 

"I  shall  live  longer,  die  happier,  and  he  hetter 
prepared  for  heaven,"  replied  he.  "I'll  go 
immediately,  and  order  the  instrument,  and, 
whatever  else  my  child  may  desire.  God  be 
praised  that  the  means  are  not  wanting  !  Money 
enough  for  all  our  simple  needs."  And,  as  if 
inspirited  with  new  life,  the  old  gentleman  stepped 
off  like  a  young  man. 

"  How  glad  we  are  that  you  have  chosen 
music  !  "  said  three  or  four  of  the  company.  "  It 
will  be  so  pleasant,  and  make  father  so  cheerful ! " 

"  We  love  it !  we  love  it !  "  exclaimed  several 
little  ones,  dancing  and  singing  in  childish  glee. 


220  LETTERS. 

Esther  now  sat  down  and  wrote  to  her  friends  : 

"  I  am,"  said  she,  to  Miss  G.,  "  very  hap- 
pily situated,  with  the  kindest  and  best  of  peo- 
ple. Want  no  longer  stares  me  in  the  face,  and  I 
look  forward  to  a  quiet  and  retired  life  of  useful- 
ness, when,  by  imitating  your  good  example,  I 
may  be  to  some  unfortunate  what  you  have  so 
kindly  been  to  me.  God  bless  you  in  your  labors 
of  love,  and  repay  you  tenfold  in  the  glorious 
kingdom  of  rest ! 

"  Remember  me  most  respectfully  to  Mr.  A., 
and  tell  him  that,  while  I  thank  him  for  all  the 
trouble  he  took  on  my  account,  I  must  warn  him 
not  to  trust  Mr.  Brown  again.  He  is  a  wicked 
man,  and  my  escape  from  him  was  a  wonderful 
interposition  of  that  kind  Providence  who  made 
me  acquainted  with  you. 

"  If  you  feel  that  you  can  write  to  the  grand- 
child of  a  colored  man,  I  shall  be  honored  and 
improved  by  your  correspondence. 

"  Address  care  of  Gaetano  Lopez,  St.  Augustine. 
"Yours  most  affectionately, 

"  ESTHER  LE  GENDRE." 


LETTERS.  221 

To  her  nurse,  she  said  : 

"  Dearest  of  those  whom  God  has  spared  to  me ! 
I  am  no  longer  the  admiration  of  "white  beaux  and 
fine  ladies,  for  I  am  a  colored  girl !  Not  that  I 
have  changed  color,  but  that,  in  finding  my  rela- 
tives, I  find  myself  the  descendant  of  a  negro.  Is 
it  not  strange  that  we  never  discovered  it  in 
France,  while  here  every  one  who  puts  his  eye 
upon  me  sees  it  in  a  twinkle  ?  Don't  think  that 
it  troubles  me.  At  first,  I  acknowledge,  I  wished 
to  persuade  myself  that  it  was  not  so  ;  but  now  I 
am  quite  reconciled  to  be  with  the  blacks,  and 
one  of  them.  My  uncle  is  an  excellent  man. 
His  children,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  are  very  amia- 
ble ;  they  treat  me  with  the  utmost  kindness  and 
attention,  and  I  should  be  basely  ungrateful  did 
I  not  respect  and  esteem  them.  Only  to  think, 
my  dear  friend,  that  I  came  near  being  stolen  and 
Bold  into  slavery  !  I  am  frightened  when  I  think 
of  it.  A  woman,  whom  I  took  to  be  a  servant,  at 
the  inn  where  we  stopped,  rescued  me.  How  shall 
I  repay  such  a  debt  of  gratitude  ?  If  you  write 
to  M.  De  Lacy,  please  not  mention  me.  I  think, 


222  LETTERS. 

I  believe,  that  I  am  not  influenced  by  pride,  in 
making  this  request.  He  is  our  neighbor,  as  also 
his  cousin  Sarah,  of  whom  you  have  often  heard 
him  speak.  It  is  thought  that  he  is  about  to 
marr y  her,  and  as  I  am, —  feeling  that  I  have  no 
longer  any  claim  upon  his  promises  or  his  affec- 
tions,—  I  do  not  wish  to  cause  him  any  unpleas- 
ant sensations,  or  make  myself  an  object  of  con- 
tempt to  Sarah,  who  is  said  to  be  a  very  proud 
and  cruel  woman.  It  was  very  hard  for  me  to 
give  up  the  thought  of  being,  at  some  future  time, 
united  to  Louis.  But  the  struggle  is  past.  Duty 
points  me  to  a  course  entirely  different  from  any- 
thing I  had  ever  conceived.  Tell  your  good  hus- 
band that  I  am  well  off,  and  mean  to  make  myself 
happy  by  an  active  life.  Thanks  to  his  good  ex- 
ample and  instruction,  I  feel  competent  to  do 
much. 

"I  wish  you  could  both  see  me  at  this  moment, 
completely  surrounded  by  little  black  cherubs ;  — 
some  climbing  on  my  chair  and  patting  my  cheek, 
curling  my  hair  and  kissing  me ;  others  feeling 
my  bare  arms  ;  here  a  pair  of  bright  eyes  staring 
at  the  paper  on  which  I  am  writing,  and  there  a 


LETTEKS.  223 

little  hand  extended  to  me  with  a  bunch  of  bright 
red  flowers. 

"  I  am  to  have  a  piano  and  music ;  and  I  hope 
to  teach  all  these  little  ones  to  sing  praises  to  the 
good  God  who  has  blessed  both  them  and  me  with 
loving  hearts  for  each  other.  You  will  love  me 
none  the  less  for  being  where  and  what  I  am.  I 
know  you  will  not,  for  my  heart  is  true  in  its  first 
attachment  to  you. 

"  Write  and  tell  me  all  about  the  folks — Kate, 
in  particular.  How  I  should  like  to  have  her  here ! 
I  could  devote  so  much  time  to  her  ! 

"  What  is  uncle  doing  ?  How  does  he  feel 
towards  me,  now  that  father  is  dead  ? 

"I  do  really  feel  quite  happy.  All  is  bright 
and  beautiful,  though  the  beauty  is  not  so  chaste 
and  pure  as  in  father's  —  uncle's  house,  I  mean, 
in  Paris. 

"  Your  Affectionate 

"  ESTHER." 

By  the  time  these  letters  were  folded,  grand- 
father returned. 

In  about  a  week  the  music  came,  and  Esther 


224  MUSIC'S  CHARMS. 

practised  diligently.  Every  day  she  tried  to 
teach,  the  little  ones,  and  before  long  she  was 
fully  employed  from  morning  till  night.  Among 
the  rest,  Cleora  occasionally  stole  in  to  learn  some 
little  air,  and  it  was  this  which  had  occasioned  the 
trouble  with  her  mistress,  Sarah. 

Grasiella  now  and  then  paid  Uncle  Lopez  a 
Yisit;  and  the  little  ones  were  left  a  few  days 
with  Miss  Esther,  who  gladly  taught  them  with 
the  other  little  ones.  Though  M.  Lopez  was  too 
old  to  sing  himself,  or  rather  to  learn  to  sing,  for 
he  was  a  natural  singer,  yet  he  was  never  tired  of 
listening.  The  old  gentleman  seemed  to  be  renew- 
ing his  youth  in  Esther's  society. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

MEETING   WITH   DE   LACY. 

"  WELL,"  said  Louis  to  Cleora,  one  day,  when 
she  returned  from  her  singing  lesson,  ' '  how 
pleased  you  look  !  What  good  thing  has  hap- 
pened to  you?" 

"  0,  I  am  so  thankful  to  learn  to  sing,  sir  !  " 

"  Indeed  !  I  wish  I  had  thought  of  it;  I  might 
have  been  teaching  you  all  this  time.  Where  do 
you  go  to  learn  1 " 

"  At  M.  Lopez's.  His  daughter  plays  beauti- 
fully, and  she  teaches  all  of  us  who  can  get  time 
to  go  to  her.  I  did  feel  somewhat  rebellious 
when  I  received  that  whipping.  I  prayed,  and 
felt  that  God  did  not  listen ;  but  now  I  see  that, 
as  you  said,  't  was  all  for  the  best." 

"  Certainly,  the  whipping  brought  you  here, 
and  I  hope  will  keep  you  here,  or  at  least  prevent 
Sarah  ill-treating  you  again.  I  mean  to  take 
care  of  you  till  aunt  comes,  and  then  I  shall  ask 

0 


226  HEART   LONGINGS. 

her  to  give  you  to  me,  and  I  -will  give  you  your 
freedom  !  Now,  is  n't  that  much  good  from  one 
lashing  1 " 

11  Indeed  it  is  !  "  said  the  grateful  woman. 

Louis  knew  how  fond  the  blacks  were  of  music, 
and  he  supposed  that,  as  M.  Lopez  was  a  man  of 
property,  he  had  provided  a  teacher  for  some  of 
his  children.  The  thought  of  Esther  of  course 
was  not  in  that  connection. 

Summer  had  passed  and  autumn  commenced 
before  M.  De  Lacy  was  able  to  walk  much. 
Then,  as  he  had  lost  strength,  the  physician  pro- 
posed riding  on  horseback.  Sarah  heard  the 
proposition  with  delight,  for  she  was  fond  of 
riding ;  and,  as  she  said,  wished  to  go  with  Louis 
to  take  care  of  him. 

Often  as  he  looked  at  her,  gracefully  guiding 
her  horse,  he  wished  it  were  Esther.  Several 
times  he  was  minded  to  ask  her,  when  in  good 
humor,  if  she  knew  or  had  heard  of  that  unfortu- 
nate young  woman ;  but  he  feared  to  provoke  her 
jealousy.  Weeks  and  weeks  had  passed,  and  the 
answers  to  his  many  letter  brought  no  intelligence 
to  ease  his  mind.  He  was  now  in  better  health, 


HOKSEMANSHIP.  227 

and  hoped  to  act,  though  he  hardly  knew  what  he 
ought  to'  do.  He  was  very  impatient  to  receive 
letters  from  France.  His  cousin's  came  regu- 
larly ;  upon  his  there  was  no  dependence,  — what 
did  it  mean  ?  If  he  spoke  of  the  deacon  and  his 
wife,  Sarah  jeered  him. 

"0,  they  have  forgotten  you  by  this  time  !  I 
am  informed  that  they  live  in  great  style  now. 
They  have  become  quite  worldly  since  the  old 
gentleman  manages  matters  for  them." 

She  was  fond  of  displaying  her  horsemanship, 
and  trying  different  horses.  She  saw  that  she 
was  a  better  rider  than  her  cousin,  and  loved  to 
excite  his  fears  for  her  safety.  One  day,  when 
she  had  taken  particular  pains  to  dress  herself  in 
a  very  becoming  manner,  she  proposed  racing  for 
a  short  distance.  Her  appearance  was  attractive, 
and  people  crowded  together  to  see  the  beautiful 
rider.  While  in  centre  of  the  town,  Louis  rode 
by  her  side ;  but  when  drawing  near  to  their 
homes,  on  the  outskirts,  and  more  out  of  sight  of 
a,  gaping  multitude,  he  absolutely  refused  to  go  so 
fast,  and  told  her  that  he  would  never  ride  with 
her  again  if  she  wished  to  make  such  a  display. 


228  THE  ACCIDENT. 

This  irritated  the  lady,  -who  pranced  off  in  high 
dudgeon.  "Within  a  short  distance  of  home,  her 
horse  took  fright  at  a  fallen  tree,  and  became  un- 
manageable. Dashing  furiously  along,  he  threw 
her  upon  a  heap  of  stones,  and,  springing  a  wall, 
was  caught  by  one  of  M.  Lopez's  domestics.  The 
old  gentleman  chanced  to  be  near  with  some  work- 
men. They  took  up  the  mangled  body,  and,  fear- 
ing life  would  be  extinct  ere  they  could  reach  her 
home,  they  carried  her  into  the  house,  and  dis- 
patched a  man  for  different  physicians.  All  this 
was  done  so  quickly,  that  Louis,  who  was  jogging 
thoughtfully  and  leisurely  along,  unconscious  that 
anything  had  happened,  was  surprised  by  a  doctor 
telling  him  that  he  was  called  in  haste  to  his 
cousin.  He  rode  rapidly  to  his  aunt's,  —  but 
Sarah  was  not  there,  —  then  to  his  own  house ; 
he  could  learn  nothing  of  the  matter.  At  the  gate 
he  met  Cleora.  She  gave  him  all  the  particulars, 
and  informed  him  that  it  was  useless  for  him  to  go 
over  to  M.  Lopez's,  as  Miss  Sarah  was  so  danger- 
ously hurt,  that  the  physicians  would  allow  no 
one  to  come  near  her  but  one  lady  and  herself. 
"  I  ran  home  for  more  linen,"  said  she.  "  Pray, 


ANXIOUS  SOLICITUDE.  229 

don't  come  yet;  you  can  do  no  good,  and  her 
groans  will  make  you  sick." 

"But  must  she  not  be  brought  home?"  said 
Louis. 

"  0,  no !  it  will  not  do  to  move  her ;  besides, 
she  is  better  off  there.  The  lady  who  is  with  her 
seems  to  know  just  what  to  do,  and  she  is  more 
calm  and  collected  than  any  of  us  could  be.  Don't 
come  yet,"  repeated  she,  and  bounded  into  the 
house.  She  soon  found  what  she  needed,  and  left, 
promising  to  send  messengers  as  often  as  any 
change  took  place. 

Louis  felt  that  Cleora  was  solicitous  for  his 
health,  yet  he  wished  to  see  his  cousin,  and  to 
hear  from  the  physician  the  extent  of  the  injury. 
He  blamed  himself  for  allowing  her  to  ride  alone. 
It  seemed  a  duty  to  go  to  her,  and  yet  he  felt  a 
delicacy  in  doing  so. 

"  I  wish  that  she  had  been  brought  home  at 
once,"  said  he  ;  —  "  't  would  save  a  world  of 
trouble.  Alas  !  if  she  be  snatched  away  in  the 
midst  of  her  wickedness  !  God  be  merciful  to  us, 
sinners  !  "  And  he  paced  the  room  in  an  excited 
state  of  feeling. 


230  THE  MEETING. 

Messengers  from  time  to  time  informed  him  that 
Sarah  still  lived  ;  but  this  was  not  sufficient,  —  he 
must  go  to  the  house  himself.  M.  Lopez  met  him 
with  the  urbanity  of  a  well-bred  gentleman.  They 
sat  and  conversed  socially  together,  and  Louis  de- 
parted, promising  to  come  again  the  next  day.  It 
was  twilight  when  he  left ;  and,  attracted  by  a  fine 
grove,  he  strolled  round  the  side  of  the  house. 
The  opening  of  a  window  caused  him  to  look  up. 
He  sprang  forward,  raised  his  arms,  but  the  win- 
dow closed,  and  he  walked  back  and  forth,  vainly 
striving  to  catch  another  glance  of  that  face  so 
much  like  Esther's.  He  returned  home,  shut 
himself  in  his  chamber,  tried  to  sleep,  but  in  vain. 
At  midnight  he  rose,  dressed  himself  hastily,  and 
again  stood  before  the  window.  The  moon  shone 
brightly.  He  looked  up,  and  there  sat  Esther, 
with  her  face  against  the  pane,  just  as  he  saw  her 
for  the  first  time  in  Paris. 

"  Esther,  dear  Esther  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

She  rose,  and  waved  her  hand.  He  beckoned 
her  to  come  to  him.  His  cousin,  her  color,  the 
time  of  night,  all  were  in  the  instant  forgotten 
and  she  flew  to  meet  him. 


THE   CONVERSATION.  281 

"  Dear  Esther !" 

"Dear  Louis  !  "  was  all  that  they  could  utter. 

She  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  the 
room  in  which  she  gave  her  music  lessons.  To  all 
his  questions  she  answered  with  the  same  childish 
simplicity,  which  had  won  his  heart  at  first.  And 
when  she  told  him  that  the  fear  of  exposing  her 
mother's  family  had  prevented  her  letting  him 
know  where  she  was,  he  burst  into  tears. 

"My  own  dear  Esther!"  said  he;  "I  loved 
you,  not  for  your  wealth  or  your  beauty,  but  for 
the  purity  of  your  soul.  I  have  not  for  a  moment 
ceased  to  love,  I  might  say,  to  think  of  you  ;  and, 
let  what  may  happen,  I  shall  never  cease  to  love 
you  ! " 

"Then  you  were  not  about  to  marry  your 
cousin  ?  "  said  she,  inquiringly. 

"God  forbid  that  I  should  be  so  punished  !  " 
said  he.  "  How  could  you  think  so  ?  " 

"Grandfather  told  it  me.  But  stay,  I  must 
Bee  my  patient."  And  she  left  him,  to  look  after 
Sarah. 

Cleora  saw  her  leave  the  room,  and  had  taken 
her  place  at  the  bedside  of  the  sufferer. 


232  NEW   PLANS. 

"  God  be  praised  !  "  whispered  Esther,  as  she 
approached.  "I  have  found  my  dear,  and  long- 
lost  friend." 

The  next  morning  Louis  took  Esther's  Bible, 
and  read  to  the  admiring  group.  M.  Lopez  de- 
clared that  he  very  much  resembled  his  son,  Le 
Gendre ;  and  when  Louis  told  him  that  Esther 
was  promised  to  him,  he  made  no  objection  to 
giving  her  up.  Grasiella  and  Lucile  were  sent 
for,  that  they  might  all  rejoice  together.  Louis 
wrote  to  his  aunt,  giving  her  a  brief  account  of 
Esther,  and  all  that  had  happened  during  her 
absence. 

Sarah's  head  was  much  injured,  and  she  was  a 
great  sufferer  for  a  long  time.  Louis,  Esther  and 
Cleora  watched  with  her  in  turn.  She  was  often 
delirious,  and  her  ravings  and  fearful  exclama- 
tions bespoke  the  agony  of  her  mind.  At  these 
times  they  would  pray  with,  or  sing  some  sooth- 
ing air,  which  often  quieted  her. 

The  business  of  his  aunt  devolving  on  him, 
Louis  set  about  making  such  improvements  as  he 
could.  In  the  first  place,  he  forbade  a  blow  being 
struck  till  further  orders.  He  talked  seriously 


TREACHERY  UNCOVERED.        233 

and  heartily  with  the  overseer,  whom  he  per- 
suaded into  comparative  gentleness.  After  a 
while,  by  repeated  acts  of  kindness,  he  secured 
the  good-will  of  that  hard  man,  who  opened  his 
heart  and  unburthened  his  conscience  by  acknowl- 
edging that  he  had  aided  and  abetted  Sarah  in  the 
concealment  and  hiding  of  letters  for  many  years ; 
that  she  had  bribed  him  by  threats  and  prom- 
ises, and  he  had  scarcely  felt  any  repugnance  at 
doing  her  bidding,  till  he  was  obliged  to  whip 
Cleora  ;  but  the  prayers  of  that  poor  girl  pierced 
his  soul,  and  the  sight  of  Sarah  disgusted  him. 
He  added  that  when  he  heard  she  had  fallen  from 
her  horse,  he  was  overjoyed,  and  had  only  hoped 
that  it  would  prove  the  death  of  her. 

Louis  felt  at  liberty  to  hunt  for  letters  belong- 
ing to  himself.  A  female  servant  brought  him 
the  last  package  from  Paris,  in  which  was  a  letter 
from  the  deacon,  which  read  as  follows  : 

•'  DEAR  Louis  :  Although  we  have  written  so 
many  times  without  receiving  an  answer  from  you, 
we  are  not  discouraged.  This  I  trust  will  reach 
you,  as  I  shall  send  it  across  the  water  by  a 


284  LETTERS   FROM   PARIS. 

friend.  I  am  sure  something  has  happened  to  our 
letters.  I  say  ours,  for  I  know  that  you  have 
written  to  me,  since  you  are  yet  in  the  land  of 
the  living. 

"  I  have  to  inform  Esther,  who,  I  understand, 
is  your  next  neighbor,  though  you  know  it  not, 
that  her  uncle  is  dead.  He  has  left  no  will;  con- 
sequently she  is  sole  heir  to  all  his  possessions. 
We  will  do  the  best  we  can  to  have  everything  as 
it  used  to  be,  so  that,  when  she  returns  to  her  own 
house,  she  may  find  herself  at  home.  She  will 
miss  her  dear  father ;  but  will  not  her  heavenly- 
Parent  give  her  some  other  stout  and  manly  heart 
to  rest  upon  ?  Ask  this  to  her  old  friend  Louis. 
If  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  he  will  love  her  none 
the  less  for  being  faithful  in  her  calling. 

"  All  are  impatient  to  see  Esther.  Kate  ia 
quite  a  respectable  sort  of  a  person.  You  will  be 
surprised  to  find  how  much  she  has  improved. 

"  Come  Esther,  come  Louis,  come  quickly. 
"Yours,  G.  DAT." 

Both  the  young  people  were  thankful  for  the 
property,  that  they  might  have  the  means  of 
doing  good. 


ESTHER'S  SCHEMES.  285 

"Now  you  can  free  your  own  people,  and 
Cleora,"  said  Esther.  "And  I  can  make  Grasi- 
ella  and  her  sister  a  handsome  present.  It  will 
be  no  matter  if  your  aunt  does  disinherit  you ;  I 
shall  have  enough  for  us  all.  How  are  all  things 
brought  about  for  my  good  !  I  am  unworthy  of 
such  innumerable  blessings  !  " 

Esther  would  have  delayed  their  marriage 
till  they  returned  to  France,  but  Louis  would  not 
hear  of  it.  "I  must  make  my  good  people  ac- 
quainted with  you,"  said  he. 

"  But  the  white  people  will  talk  so  much  about 
us,"  insisted  she. 

"  And  why  should  we  care  for  them,  or  what 
they  say  ?  Are  we  not  sufficient  for  each  other  ? 
And  can  we  not  be  happy,  as  we  have  been,  in 
helping  those  poor  creatures,  who  have  so  few  to 
be  interested  in  them  ?  " 

"I  am  willing  to  do  what  you  judge  for  the 
best.  I  will  even  live  here,  if  you  like,  and 
devote  myself  to  the  education  and  improvement 
of  the  blacks,"  said  Esther. 

"Can  you,  will  you  sacrifice  all  that  you 
might  enjoy  in  France  for  the  good  of  these  1  J 
exclaimed  the  enraptured  philanthropist. 


236  SARAH'S  PENITENCE. 

"It  is  even  so;  and  no  merit  to  me  for  it," 
answered  she.  "  I  have  learned  to  love  them ; 
they  are  affectionate  and  faithful,  and  I  am  sure 
that  I  can  be  happy,  anywhere,  with  you  !  " 

"  We  will  not  be  hasty  in  our  plans.  This  is  a 
matter  which  requires  reflection  and  prayer. 
Now,  dearest,"  added  he,  "  I  see  nothing  to  pre- 
vent our  being  united  here  in  your  grandfather's 
house.  Shall  we  say  next  week  ?  " 

"  I  am  willing,"  was  the  reply. 

Sarah's  head  was  better,  and  the  physician  said 
it  would  be  safe  to  take  her  home ;  but  she  refused 
to  be  moved.  Her  eyes  had  been  bandaged,  so  that 
she  did  not  see  Esther.  CleoraV  voice  she  rec- 
ognized, and  had  more  than  once  thanked  her 
for  her  kindness.  Louis  spent  much  time  in 
conversation  with  her,  and  often  she  exhibited 
signs  of  penitence  for  her  past  wickedness.  One 
day  she  said  to  him,  "Who  is  the  sweet  young 
woman  who  does  so  much  for  me  1  She  cannot 
be  a  colored  girl;  she  is  very  refined." 

' '  Does  not  her  voice  remind  you  of  some  one  in 
France  ?  "  asked  Louis. 

"  I  do  not  think  of  any  such  person.  Among 
14* 


POWER   OF   KINDNESS.  237 

all  my  acquaintances  there  is  no  one  who  could 
have  done  what  she  has  for  me.  Really,  Louis,  I 
believe  that  I  am  more  indebted  to  her  and  Cleora 
for  my  life,  than  I  am  to  the  doctors." 

"  Thank  God  that  you  feel  so,  cousin  !  I  trust 
that  this  accident  will  be  the  means  of  making  you 
view  life  in  a  different  light.  How  do  you  feel 
about  prayer  now  ?  Do  you  like  to  hear  it,  —  to 
pray  yourself?" 

"I  hardly  know,"  replied  she.  "My  mind 
wanders.  I  cannot  think  of  anything  clearly. 
But  I  wish  to  know  who  is  so  kind  to  me  !  " 

"  God,  your  Father  in  heaven,  is  kind  to  you, 
and  all  of  us." 

"I  know  that;  but  the  woman  whose  gentle 
hand  has  so  many  tunes  soothed  my  aching  head," 
said  she,  earnestly. 

"  Do  you  think  you  will  try  to  love  her,  if  I 
tell  you  ?  " 

"  I  do  love  her!  I  am  not  a  monster,  to  be 
insensible  to  such  kindness  !  I  have  known  that 
she  was  near  me  night  after  night,  and  seemed  to 
me  as  mother  did  Avhen  I  was  an  innocent 
child." 


238  SAILING  FOR   FRANCE. 

Louis  could  not  help  pronouncing  the  name  of 
Esther  Le  Gendre,  with  a  tremulous  voice. 

"  Is  it  possible  !  "  said  Sarah.  "  I  thought  I 
was  dreaming  -when  I  heard  her  and  Cleora  talk- 
ing about  you.  Am  I  not  in  my  own  chamber  ?" 

"  No,  dear  cousin.  You  were  brought  into  M. 
Lopez's." 

"  0,  yes  !  I  remember,  they  wanted  to  take 
me  home ;  but  I  am  better  off  here.  Where  is 
aunt  ?  I  have  many  things  to  say  to  her.  Do 
you  think  I  shall  get  well  ?  " 

"  No  doubt  you  will,  and  help  us  carry  out  our 
plans.  You  will  have  learned  what  it  is  to  suffer, 
and  will  have  different  views  and  feelings.  But  we 
must  not  talk  so  much,  't  will  worry  you." 

Contrary  to  their  expectations,  she  passed  a 
quiet  night  after  this  conversation. 

When  she  began  rapidly  to  improve,  Esther 
devoted  less  time  to  her  than  she  had  hitherto 
done,  and  assisted  Louis  more  in  the  arrangement 
and  ordering  of  the  two  households  under  his 
care. 

Before  their  aunt  returned,  they  sailed  for 
Fraace,  promising  the  good  grandfather  a  speedy 
return. 


THE   CONCLUSION.  239 

Who  can  describe  the  pleasure  of  such  a  meet- 
ing as  took  place  in  the  family-room  of  Le  Gen- 
dre  1  How  many  tears,  praises,  and  thanksgivings, 
were  drawn  forth  by  the  mutual  tales  of  trials  and 
sufferings  of  those  four  Christian  people  ! 

"  God  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  those  who 
trust  in  Him !  "  said  the  deacon.  "Esther  has 
passed  through  the  furnace  of  affliction.  May 
she  brighten  us  all  with  the  lustre  of  her  good 
deeds ! " 

After  visiting  all  the  poor  whom  they  had  here- 
tofore known,  and  sending  letters  and  presents  to 
the  absent  ones,  they  collected  what  remained, 
after  making  the  deacon  and  his  wife  comfortable, 
and  returned  to  America,  where  they  formed  a  sort 
of  colony. 

Does  the  reader  believe  it  impossible  to  live 
happily,  as  these  good  people  did,  in  a  community 
of  negroes  ?  Let  him  pray  that  his  Christianity 
may  be  more  Christ-like,  and  his  heart  so  enlarged 
that  he  can  take  in  all  mankind  as  his  brothers. 


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